Against All Odds
by stefani teee
Summary: It's the seventh year and the Dark Lord has laid low for two years now. But things aren't as they seem, a new student, Nagini, appears. But for Hermione and her friends, everything is about the same... until Malfoy decides that it *won't*.
1. Chapter 00

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Against All Odds

By: stefani teee a.k.a. Koneko ^Å^

© Tale Spinners Inc.

Email: mirroredsakura@yahoo.com

~*~*~*~

Koneko-chan says!

Stefani: *grins* Am fixing this up! Be happy!

Heero-chan: *rolls eyes* Or else.

Nanashi: Just shut up. You'll get on her bad side, otherwise.

Stefani: *glares at Heero-chan, smiles at Nanashi*

~*~*~*~

****

Prologue

A snake lay coiled around the feet of its master, its forked tongue flicking back and forth in its opened mouth as it lay its head on the armrest of the velvet-covered armchair. Its master's hand lifted slightly and it slid its head beneath. The hand stroked it slowly as its master stared at the flames in the fireplace of his empty manor, thinking, eyes set deep in his head were narrowed as they absorbed the light of the fire's dancing flames and refused to reflect them. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, but hard and the snake could feel the hatred underlining every word he spoke aloud. "_I've waited for too long, Nagini. I can't wait anymore…_" the words were hissed, and not in any language of men in the world. 

The snake however, understood perfectly, hissing her reply. For he was a Parseltongue… and that gave him the advantage of learning the serpents' wisdom. "_Patience, lord, patience… Your wretched servant is too much afraid of you to do anything to disobey you. He has no other choice. He would be killed if anyone from the wizarding world caught sight of him._" 

Her master laughed, softly. "_HA! Wormtail? That pathetic coward is no one I can depend on. And that foolish Minister called on the Dementors to take the soul of my most trusted follower._" 

The snake smiled, remembering. He had been a good follower of the Master, but the Master could always find others hungry for the power he had to give. "_Master. You have regained most of your health, and your full strength will come in time. Let **me** go to that school, that place called Hogwarts and let me be your spy. I would not fail you, like that faithless rat did._" The man's face sparked slight interest. "_And what could you be able to do, dear Nagini? You are but a serpent, a wise and clever one, but a serpent only_."

"_I have power, my lord. And you might give me the power to be human. You might make me a lamia. I could enroll as a student._" Its master sneered. "_My power, Nagini? You would need **my** power?_" the snake flinched its head back from its master's touch, but he knew of her loyalty to him, having had her since the beginning of his Dark days. "_I would not fail you, ever, my lord._"

Making his decision finally, he nodded. "_Yes. I trust you. You are one of the few that I might say I almost trust, and will gain for me what Wormtail never could. You will go then, and as that traitor Snape once was in my lair, you will be my spy in their haven._"

"M-master?" asked a stuttering voice from the doorway. The snake's head jerked and turned, a hiss escaping its open mouth, and watched as the man squirming in the doorway sputtered and looked down at his feet. "What is it, Wormtail?" asked her master, his voice icy.

"Y-you wanted y-your wand?" he asked holding out the wand by the fingertips, unwilling to hold it completely in his hand. A wand, which held, even though it couldn't be seen, a golden-red feather at its core.

"Bring it to me." The words were biting, fierce and the man trembled violently, producing a short, cruel smile on the master's face. The man stepped forward hesitantly and shuddered as he eyed the snake watching him with predatory satisfaction at his fear. He gave the wand to the man and as quickly as he could without seeming too scared, backed away waiting for what the master would say. 

"Leave."

"_A pathetic fool, that one is._" remarked Nagini watching Wormtail scuttle away. "_He has his uses._" The master replied, waving a dismissive hand at the doorway. He held out his wand, beckoning the snake to coil directly in front of him, in order that he could cast the spell without leaving his place before the fire. She complied, slithering a little closer to the fire, away from the chair, and facing him, watching him with large golden eyes. "_Serpentia Alteratio!_" he declared a blast of green light flying at the snake and blinding any whom might have looked at it except the caster and the serpent, which didn't blink.

When the light faded away into nothingness, a young woman stood there, completely naked, her eyes as green as the color her now-gone scales. He looked at her face, his eyes never falling below her neck, having given up shallow pleasures of the flesh long ago. "You are now akin to an Animagus and have been given the power to transform… you are a lamia, and a walking servant of Lord Voldemort. Be careful with this new power should anyone suspect you."

She nodded slowly, adjusting herself to the newness of the strange form she had taken, "_I won't fail you, Master_." With a languid wave with his wand, he gestured to a wardrobe at the side of the room. "Dress now, and send in an application to the school with one of the owls. Wormtail will assist you if you require his help." 

Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought, amusing him greatly, his laughter was heard as a soft hissing sound. 

"I won't be needing that fool's help." She told him, before she finding a black robe in the wardrobe and slipped it on, doing it up slowly as she became acquainted with her new limbs, her walk a slow, jerky gait.

When she'd left the room, her master stared back into the flames again, this time a small smile on his cold lips. That boy would die this year; he would never leave that school alive. Although never anything like this, Nagini had done assassinations for him in years for centuries. And she had always been _very_ efficient in her work. It took a serpent to know subtlety as well as she.

~*~*~*~

End. Aren't you happy with it? *beams* I'm rather proud that it remained the same, but sounded less… dorky… I think is the term.


	2. Chapter 01

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Against All Odds

By: stefani teee a.k.a. Koneko ^Å^

© Tale Spinners Inc.

Email: mirroredsakura@yahoo.com

~*~*~*~

Koneko-chan says!

Stefani: *shrugs* I fixed up the first chapter. 'Nuff said.

~*~*~*~

The girl's large sloping brown eyes were weary as she closed one of the large, leather-bound volumes that rested around her room in piles, with a snap. She yawned loudly, stretching, and flopping backwards on the bed, smacking her head against another ancient tome resting on her pillow. She had been attempting to cram in some extra studying before school started up again… But there was no time for that. Today it had already been arranged that she was meeting Harry and Ron at Diagon Alley for school supplies. It had been a tradition for five years now, going on (she thought sadly) the last. It was their seventh year now, their last year at Hogwarts. Shoving the book off her lap with a groan she got off her bed, where she'd been sitting cross-legged reading and waited as feeling returned to her legs which had fallen asleep during her extended reading. Walking to her bathroom, she passed the mirror, merely glancing at it once, too used to it to notice the change that had been wrought over Hermione Granger over the summer holidays.

She had grown taller, being a late bloomer as it was and she had matured later than the rest but… she smiled as she finished her glance. Yes indeed, one might almost think it was worth the wait. But an entire summer seeing that was almost enough to make a girl forget that no one else from school had seen her since the end of last school term. 

Well, she certainly would make an impression wouldn't she? She'd show them that she was indeed a girl (that old, particularly tactless comment from Ron still stung), which they hadn't seemed to notice for the last six years that they'd known her for. She refused to wear a cloak. She was Muggle. She would dress like one. That should catch more than just her friends' eyes, though she wished no romantic designs on either of them. But why not prove it to them that she could handle a year 'loosened up', as they'd told her to do? Well… as soon as she finished looking over her books.

"Baby? I thought you were meeting your friends down in London today?" called her mother from the bottom of the flight of stairs five minutes later. Hermione glanced at the clock once again and shrieked. "OH NO!" before she launched herself at her closet flinging clothes right and left trying to find something. She _knew_ she should have been prepared for something like this? How could she not have been prepared? The name Hermione _commanded_ her preparedness of anything from schoolwork (and recently) to clothes. 

Her mother appeared in the doorway, peeking in, and found her daughter panicking wreck as she hit the closet like a tornado. "What's the big deal, honey? I thought you were just going to wear those Celtic robe things." She wrinkled her nose at the thought of those itchy cloaks that she'd worn one year to go with her daughter to buy supplies in order to 'blend in'.

"No I'm _not_! I'm going to find something that'll prove to them that _yes_ I'm a bloody _female_ and not just 'one of the gang'! I'll make them wait for all I care!" she yelled giving up as she eyed the havoc that had become her room and kicking her closet door. Her mother laughed, braving Hurricane Hermione and kneeling down quickly beside her seventeen-year-old daughter. "If you wanted help, you could have asked me in the first place… " she told her, pushing a side of her white lab coat she almost always wore, out of her way and began searching through the clothes. "My little girl's all grown up now isn't she…?" she sighed, "Show them you're a woman now hmm? Well… you could always try this… and oh, this will do, and this, of course that works well too…" 

Hermione soon found herself donning a red midriff tank (with a white button-up sleeveless over it so her dad wouldn't go insane and give her the 'fatherly lecture') and short denim cutoff shorts. She looked at herself carefully in the mirror. "I like it Mum. You're a lifesaver."

"That's one thing you won't see every day… a dentist with good taste in clothes." She looked down at her lab coat and sighed. "I'll have to change too, won't I?"

"I think so… I don't think you'll meet any vampires in dire need of teeth surgery anytime today." Her mother laughed heading for her own room, "Well, hurry then, okay honey? I honestly don't want to think of that greasy pub we have to go through in order to get to that Alley." Hermione answered, "Now **you're** the one who's holding us up!"

"Don't blame me, honey! I'm not the one with the car keys!"

It was an hour's drive there in good traffic and thank goodness… it was good traffic. They drove up, and parked in front of the bookstore. Her mother looked nervously at the people who completely ignored the pub and continued to enter in a flowing stream of people into the bookstore, their having a sale of some sort, as she and her daughter walked in the door of the Leaky Cauldron. Answering the brief greeting the bartender gave them; they walked out the back, and after a hassle with the brick wall, walked out into Diagon Alley. Here, Hermione took charge and led the way, this time to Gringots, where she'd promised to meet them, right after she'd exchanged her money for wizarding coins. Just as soon as she took her place leaning against one of the white stone walls outside, a blur of red hair came past and screeched to a stop several feet in front of her. Tall, gangly, and yet well muscled, it was the youngest male Weasley, Ron.

And Ron it was for not noticing the obvious, for his eyes roved all around, his eyes catching sight of Hermione but only flashed past her as he called over at a fast approaching raven-haired teenager, gasping to keep up, telling him to hurry up.

"I don't think he recognizes you, dear…" voiced her mother's opinion in an amused tone.

"You and me both," muttered Hermione, glaring daggers at one of her best friends. Imagine, not being able to recognize the same girl who'd kept his damned arse out of trouble for over six years straight now! She made a "hmph" sound in her displeasure. 

Her mother personally found her being slightly unfair. Hermione knew just how much she'd grown up during the summer holidays, and she certainly knew that neither of her friends had seen her yet. That thought brought her round to the fact that both her daughter's best friends were males. _Oh dear… there will definitely be _something_ happening at that school this year…_ She groaned, mentally. Oh the dating… Already she had seen enough of Hermione's potential 'mates' (as one extremely strange wolf-obsessed fellow was wont to tell her) over the course of the summer.

"Bloody hell… where is she?" he wondered aloud, as Harry caught up to him, clutching his knees as he fought to regain his breath. Harry was a strong guy, having lived with the Dursleys for so long, but he had not the endurance that Ron had built up working during the summer.

Harry finally looked up and round, and caught sight of her quite quickly, along with the small smirk on her face. He gawped at her for a second before shutting his mouth and then the laughter began. "You obviously didn't look too hard, did you? She is standing directly behind you."

And so she was with arms crossed and leaning against a Gringott's column.

This time it was Ron who turned round and gawped at her. There were only two people behind him after all… and that was Hermione, and her mother. It was easy to put two and two together from there.

"Hermione?" he finally asked when he had gained back his powers of speech, as he stared at her. Er… well, perhaps not _her_ her, and more like just her _chest_ her, but he had managed to look politely back at her face after the first shock. And so, she was keen to ignore it, knowing full well the shock she had caused. She _had_ met Seamus Finnigan on the way to Gringott's after all. 

"Already you don't remember me… Ron, I really _do_ need to hit you upside the head one of these days."

"Would do him some good," Harry commented, the grin never leaving his face. "Hi, Mrs. Granger." He greeted Hermione's mum. 

Hermione sighed… her mother had met him before… and she'd been charmed. "Oh he's such a nice boy… such a nice young man… are you planning to date him?" she had said the last time she had met Harry Potter. Of course, her mother had at least had the tact not to say this right in front of Harry himself. One reddened face staring back openmouthed back at her mother was enough.

"Hello Harry…"

Seeing this, Ron hastened to greet her as well, "How was your summer Mrs. Granger?"

"Anthony and I spent wonderful nights watching television while our daughter whiled her time away with the boys." She said this with a lightly teasing, lightly sarcastic manner. And even though Hermione had the grace to blush, the twin stares were rearranged on the boys' faces again, as if they honestly couldn't believe Hermione spending a summer _without_ her nose in a book. Well, technically she had… she just kept it in a book while decked out in a bikini on the beach.

" So… where are we headed to first?" she asked quickly, attempting to change the subject, uttering the dreaded (to her) and magical (to them) words. "Didn't I see a new broom in the shop window?"

Both immediately pulled her into a discussion of the latest discussion of some new Cirrus model that had just been out. She groaned mentally, and tuned it all out while still managing that 'oh-so-interested' look, while catching her mother's eye. She quirked up an eyebrow, and gave her a look that said plainly, "You wanted to change the subject… live with it."

She returned that oh-so-subtle look with a pleading one of her own as the boys' conversation switched to broom-cleaning equipment. Her mother looked at her with a broad smile on her face for a moment before saying loudly, breaking into the conversation, "Dear, do you still need me now that your friends are here? I'd like to… to… see what the fuss is about in that bookstore we passed by."

Brilliance. Sheer brilliance. Hermione secretly applauded her mother as Harry stopped the conversation to bid her farewell, and Ron, not being outdone by his best friend even ran after her a few paces to shake her hand quite formally. She shrugged, Percy must be rubbing off on him.

"I'll come back out by myself to get you later!" she called back to her mother before walking in the opposite direction, so as not to allow the two boys to pick up their conversation where they'd left off. Quidditch and winning and brooms were all fine and dandy, but she had some shopping to do. She needed new robes. And of course there was always that smidgen of money that she could spend on a nice book for herself… Perhaps, _Legolas Greenleaf: An Autobiography_ by the famed Elf himself. She smiled. There were plenty of witches who found him more attractive than Gilderoy Lockhart. She was quite inclined to agree.

"So where exactly are we headed to first?" asked Harry. Hermione stopped. "You _have_ gone into Gringott's already haven't you?"

"Yeah… but then Ron caught sight of _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ and then…"

"No. No more. Stop right there, I do _not_ want to hear any more about that new whatchamacallit model that just came out. If you've got money, we're off to Madame Malkin's—oh hello Ginny."

For indeed, the red-haired pixie had appeared beside them, panting for breath and shooting her brother dirty looks. "Just _wonderful_ to leave me there with Mum hanging onto my arm as if I would break if she let me alone. Oh! Hello Hermione… lovely outfit by the way, simply scrumptious."

"Sounds like you want to eat it," muttered Ron, making that all-too-well-known guy face that says all-too-clearly '_Women_'. It is certainly amazing how much aggravation you can inject into one look. Ron pulled it off. Harry burst out laughing.

"Madame Malkin's it is… you're right, Hermione… mine are a little too short as they are."

"Oh… I was going to get a new wand… I actually need one this year…" she waved the one she had in her hand to prove her point and it let out a few indignant sparks. "It's becoming quite temperamental." 

Fifteen minutes, and several dozens of wands later, they exited the store, Ginny clutching her new wand (oak and dragon's heartstring) in one hand, and the box it had come in, in the other, being too excited to wait till she got home to get used to it. Passing in and out of the shops, getting the necessary items, which (they being seventh/sixth-year wizards and witches) meant a lot of necessary items, too many to list completely.

Soon enough, they were loaded with books, cauldrons (in Hermione's case, Neville being her Potions partner meant that he had discreetly turned it into a melted lump of pewter), and other miscellanies. However, they had failed to enter Madam Malkin's, for, as Ginny and Hermione both commiserated on, they were shopping with two _boys_. Wizarding world though they may be in, and budding wizards they may be, they were still boys. And sadly, that usually meant an allergy to anything regarding clothes shopping. It was actually better among the wizarding families actually… husbands were not dragged to places known as 'malls', which overall carries a certain ominous dark cloud to those of the Y chromosome.

So, it was with a lot of arguing (especially on Ron's part), that they were made to enter the shop. Hermione, as well as Harry it turned out, needed new robes. While it seemed they were on the frayed side, Ron and Ginny just shuffled after them, looking a little embarrassed as they mumbled something along the lines of "the ones we have are just fine…" to the smiling witch at the door. 

Harry went first, and so Hermione amused herself by conversing with Ginny about her expectations on who would be Head Boy and Head Girl. Ginny laughed, before the laugh turned into a frown. "You mean… you didn't get a letter from McGonagall, _telling_ you that you were Head Girl?"

Hermione was suddenly chilled to the tips of her toes, despite the sun still shining brightly through the open window. "No… would that mean…?"

Ginny's eyebrows lifted, "Well there's got to be something, y'know." She remarked logically, "There might've been a mistake… but Percy graduated not to long ago, and he got _his_ notice about his position with his letter. You're lots smarter than anyone other girl your class aren't you?"

"I… _thought_ so…" But there were always people that weren't as well known as her, even if it was by association to Harry Potter. She did not enjoy riding Harry's coattails, and she did well to prove herself, and she had been quite proud of her accomplishments.

"Well, there's no use worrying about it now… maybe they changed it this year… we'll find out on September 1st anyway."

"You're up next dear, come along," Hermione got up from her seat, heading towards the witch with all the pins in her mouth (which made it amazing to believe that the witch had actually been able to talk without dropping several of them to the ground).

She faced the mirror as the kind little witch took her measurements with a measuring tape (that did its work on its own) as she gathered the black fabric and arranged them on the girl's slim frame. "You're Muggle-born, aren't you?" she asked kindly as she worked, (her mouth having been emptied of pins). "Yes… how did you know?"

Did they have some blood-testing Charm for purity of wizarding blood cast over the door? How could they know?

"It's not very difficult to know, considering what you are wearing is not… any form of robes we have ever made."

Oh.

It made sense.

Oops.

She repeated this last to the witch, and the other woman's eyes sparkled, as she patted Hermione's shoulder and waddled off to see to another customer at the front door, while the measuring tape did its work.

"Well, well… if it isn't the little Mudblood…" the words were soft enough so that only she could hear, and she very much recognized _that_ slow, drawling voice, as well as the arrogance behind the words. She groaned, not even turning her head. "Oh no… not you Malfoy…" Honestly, she was sick and tired of these men who thought themselves "better than her". It had been enough when she'd had to handle Muggle boyfriends who were given no clue what her school was, or what she was planning to take in University… and so, decided that wasn't going to do anything with her life. She had had enough of all that overbearing, and she had reached her limit. No one was going to think himself or herself better than her this year. No one. Not even the skinny pale-faced rich brat.

She looked up at the mirror to see his reflection. Again, she was taken aback.

Oh.

She hadn't been the only one who'd filled out over the summer.

And he'd filled out into a sexy one indeed.

Bloody hell.

But before she could say anything, or even turn, the witch was back, "You're done dear." She pulled off the fabric and with a short snap of her wand, the thread and needle began running through the fabric by themselves as she gathered up her measuring tape, stuffing it into the front pocket of her robes, and Hermione stepped down. She looked up to see Malfoy's reflecting gaping at her. "What?" she asked, again forgetting the physical changes that had been wrought over her that summer. So, she assumed that outwardly flaunting the fact that she was a Muggle, even when she knew the Dark Lord had risen, had shocked him.

He regained his composure quickly, "Oh look, the little Muggle's all grown up." he drawled, and she never noticed the slight coloring of his cheeks.

"And oh look, the big, bad Pureblood's jealous." She drawled back in exactly the same tone as he, including the patented sarcasm. Very not true. He had nothing to be jealous of…

Bloody hell.

What other bad quality could she think up to insult him with? Well… there were plenty… but nothing that would injure his wonderfully thick sense of narcissism.

Bloody, _bloody_ hell.

"Listen Granger—" He never finished his sentence, because at that point, she smiled at him, smiled her most incredibly wide, "Look-ma-no-cavities!", fake smile. "Sorry Malfoy, but I've got other things to do today… see you around." 

For some strange, unknown reason, Draco Malfoy honestly wanted to childishly retort, "Not if I see you first." But he quelled it, and instead, watched her reflection as she walked over to the witch in the front, in order to pay for the making of the robes. He also noticed the bright fireballs of hair that signaled the Weasleys' appearance at the shop. But most of all, he noticed Hermione Granger. The girl had guts to be walking out when the rest of the wizarding world was so incredibly tense over the fact that the You-Know-Who had returned.

It was already quite late when the quartet finally finished walking the length of Diagon Alley (several times, owing to the fact that Ron could not handle long-term separation from the new Cirrus model sitting in the display window of Quidditch Quality Supplies and kept returning to it). Due to this very reason, Hermione had to bid them all a quick farewell. "See you all on the train, all right? Mum's waiting for me… and interested though she is in books, spending a day in a bookstore waiting for me is not something she would deem 'fun'." She left them all with a smile, but she was a tad frustrated. They hadn't, with the exception of Ginny, to have noticed anything different about her. Except for the fact that yes, she was a female, but she was still only 'one of the gang'. Not that she wanted to be a tease… she was not desperate to snog either Harry or Ron, but some indication that she _could_ would be nice. It was a sore blow to a girl's ego not to have her male friends notice any new about her.

Bloody hell, even _Malfoy_ had noticed, and he did not fall under her 'best male friends' category. She sighed… what was the use? They would always be ignorant, and she would always be the one to pull them out of whatever problem they were in. But she loved the two of them, and she knew very well they loved her… perhaps it was for the better. She cherished their friendship too much to want to tarnish it. She sighed again, and dragged her new things behind her, wincing at the state of the cauldron bottom, and the scraping it would have to deal with. Bebother these stupid rules about no magic outside Hogwarts! It would have been perfectly simple to use a levitation spell and float it all behind her. By the time she reached the brick wall that led to the Leaky Cauldron, she was gasping for air. Grumbling, she pulled out her wand and tapped the bricks (the instructions being posted on the inside wall, but not on the outside) and headed through. 

The first thing she saw when she dragged the stuff in was Malfoy, drinking a glass of… something. Probably alcoholic. He looked up and eyed her in distaste, "Oh. It's you. Here to catch a few drinks before your _friends_ find out?"

She made herself answer, even though she was tired enough as it was and her back ached from dragging that stupid cauldron full of books and other miscellaneous items. "Yes, it's me. But as I don't find you the best of company, Malfoy, I'll bypass the offer of an alcoholic beverage, and just continue on my way." She told him bluntly as she waved to the bartender and continued to drag the thing out the door. 

Or tried to. 

It wouldn't budge an inch. 

"Bloody _hell_!" she muttered, "As if I haven't had enough of this already…" as she eyed the raised edge on the floor that no amount of pushing or pulling on her part could move. What a wonderful end to this wonderful day. Really.

"You know… it's much easier to pick it up." Hermione grit her teeth. He did not need to remind her. 

"If I could, I would, Malfoy." She told him tugging fruitlessly at the brass ring on the cauldron. As that didn't work, she swore under her breath some more, and looked for anyone who could help her. 

The place was empty except for the bartender busy trying to break up a small brawl between two drunkards.

Bartender. Two drunkards. Malfoy.

Bloody hell. What was with this day of hers?

"Here, let me help." He told her shortly as he bent down and picked the whole thing up.

Well now. This was something new.

She was treated to the sight of Draco Malfoy's arm muscles flexing as straightened, which left her, (to her shame) quite speechless. She then gawped at him for a second or two more before he finally said, impatiently, "I won't be holding it forever Granger, tell me where you want it or I'll drop it right here and now. And that would involve the whole bedamned thing landing on your feet."

"Uh, follow me then." 

Uh? Oh god… she _had_ lost her hold on vocabulary. Gah.

She led the way out of the Leaky Cauldron and out into the streets of London. People were already turning to stare, not at Hermione really, but at Draco's robes, although there _were_ several of male population looking her way. But no, mainly Draco's clothes. And what he was carrying. _Although_ those girls standing at the corner of the street _were_ eyeing him and giggling with each other…

"Come on, quickly." More people had begun to stare, as she led the way to her mum's parked car, talking out her keys and popping open the boot.

Without another word, Draco carefully placed it in the rather large compartment. After doing so, and watching her smack the thing closed, he looked at the entire car rather curiously. Hermione was fidgeting beyond belief, nervously, and finally she managed a, "Well… thanks Malfoy."

He shrugged, "Nothing to me. I needed an excuse to sneak into Muggle London anyway."

Ah. She should have guessed.

He eyed the rest of London in all its glamour. People continued to stare at him.

One extremely brave boy (possibly knowing those aforementioned girls standing at the corner) with a death wish walked past him, calling out, in a voice pitched to carry, "What the bloody hell are you _wearing_?"

Draco looked ready to throw cautions to the winds (as well as a chance for expulsion) by reaching for his wand in his robes. Hermione spoke for him. She pouted prettily, "Aw… you don't like it? Bugger… now we'll have to tell the director that the public won't like his new costume ideas… Draco dear, we'll have to postpone the photo shoot…"

At this, the girls at the corner, as one, glared at the boy.

Draco looked affronted, "Certainly not." He replied curtly, "Miss a chance to catch me on film? The… director will skin you alive. And any of the public left after I'm done with them."

The boy took this as a cue to leave, as quickly as possible, but not before getting an eyeful of Hermione Granger.

Hermione laughed, turning back to Draco. "And that's how you handle the random prats you meet on the streets of London."

Draco hmphed, "I prefer death threats."

"Why are you still here anyway? I thought you were done with Diagon Alley?" She didn't notice how that had not sounded very polite. Would she have cared? No. Did Draco care? Nope.

"I am. But I've been ordered not to set foot outside of the Leaky Cauldron… and I've never been one to miss a chance of getting around a direct order…" his answers were well thought out and this familiar Malfoy drawl was back on his tongue.

Ah well… if it had lasted any longer, she might have suspected herself to be in the Twilight Zone.

"A word to the wise. You should change out of the robes, Malfoy."

"I don't need your advice, Granger." He told her, crossing his arms. Hermione stifled a laugh. He looked rather ridiculous standing in the street acting like a pompous, self-inflated egotist. Which he was. 

"Still if you're desperate to poke around the Muggle world, you're not going to get far without being stopped by the police… you _do_ stand out you know."

"And I am quite proud of that fact."

She shook her head. "I might help in the matter of getting you clothes."

"There is nothing wrong with my clothes."

Groaning, she turned away from him, "Fine. Go looking to them like an apparition from the circus. Don't mind me."

"Darling?" asked a voice behind them, and Hermione turned round to come face to face with her mother. "Mum… sorry I was late."

"Oh don't worry your pretty head over it… who is this?" she eyed Draco Malfoy speculatively, and she noticed the robes. "Oh dear… aren't those hot?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "He's a Malfoy. They're above the law."

"Malfoy? Well then, hello Mr. Malfoy." She held out her hand, and he eyed it slightly uncomfortably, before taking it hesitantly.

"Draco Malfoy, Mrs. Granger… it's a pleasure." He had quite a cavalier way of speaking when he wasn't being a prat, Hermione reflected, grinning as she noticed his hesitance. She had no idea why, but this certainly was a change from the stuck-up bastard she'd known for over six years.

Sabrina Granger grinned, before popping open the back door of the car and unloading the armful of books into the car. It was noticeable that the bookworm gene ran in the family.

"So… what are you doing out in London? Got family you're visiting before the holidays are over?"

"No actually… simply exploring."

"Well… don't mind me for saying this, but you might do better without the robes."

Hermione grinned victoriously, and Draco frowned, "Is there honestly something awful about that which I am currently wearing?"

"Oh no… you look perfectly handsome, but I must say you _will_ stand out in a crowd… you would most likely be accused of wearing a dress out in public."

Hermione was in awe of her mother. Not even five minutes had passed, and she had the key to making Draco listen to her.

"A _dress_?" he asked in disbelief, "Why, I am wearing exactly what I'm supposed to be wearing, there is nothing wrong with my robes at all!"

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow, "Well then," she replied archly, "Then you most likely won't wonder at the lack of female companionship you'll have around here if you decide to stand out in a crowd."

Hermione grinned widely… she knew what was coming. This was exactly the same tactic she used with her father, who hated shopping as much as any other specimen of the male race.

"But anyway… Hermione and I need to be going home now… drop by to visit sometime if you want…" she invited.

"Mum, he has no idea where we live."

"Don't suppose it would matter, does it? We had our fireplace connected to the Floo Network last month didn't we?" she shook her head, smiling at Draco, "That other boy—what's his name?—has been over almost every week now…"

The blond was amazed to see a light blush on Hermione's cheeks. "You know very well Cameron and I broke it off this summer."

"Doesn't mean he came any less while you _were_ dating…"

"Don't we have to get _home_?" Hermione asked, bringing the conversation back onto the road, and off any paths of the abstract.

"Yes indeed… have a wonderful time in London, Draco dear."

Mrs. Granger opened the driver's door, when Hermione was there, "Hey, hey, I'm driving, Mum."

With a grumpy look, the older woman relinquished her hold on the door handle and walked around the car to the passenger's side.

Draco felt like an idiot for the full two minutes that he was standing there. But perhaps the wait was worth it because Hermione smiled a cheery smile that he had rarely seen directed at him, and waved at him through the windshield before turning her attentions to navigating the ways of London traffic.

He grimaced to himself as he turned round, walking away. Nothing had changed between them. She was still the girl immersed in books, and he was still the bastard he'd always been.

And he almost believed it.

~*~*~*~

Stefani: First chapter finished!

Nanashi: Don't get so ecstatic over it.

Chibi-Relena: Why?

Heero-chan: *shaking head* Don't ask. Just don't ask… we're better off that way.

Stefani: *glares at muses* And what was _that_ supposed to mean?

~*~*~*~


	3. Chapter 02

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Two

Koneko-chan says!

Hi again, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them. And the one about me putting comments in the middle? You're right, it is a better idea to put in my AN's, I could actually write something in them. But who reads those anyway? Not me most of the time. Anyway, second chapter, third one coming out soon. And you who said Hermione was coming on to Ron? That wasn't happening, she was trying to prove something to the **both** of them. Don't blame me if Ron is the only one who isn't in love with anyone (we all know J.K. Rowling made Harry like Cho) and the sudden instinct to pair them up pops into your brain. I meant her to prove to **both of them** that she was a **girl** not just 'you know, **her**, our friend, the bookworm, etc. I think Ron was a little idiotic in suddenly saying "hey Hermione you **are** a girl!" Well **duh**. All I can say is, go Krum for noticing!

~*~*~*~

September first. The first day of the last year to Hogwarts. Draco's lip curled into a horrible visage of a smile as he looked at the date on the calendar. The scantily clad women on the borders winked and blew kisses at him, but they didn't distract him, he was still lost in thought about what was coming this year. 

It was his last year, and therefore, it would also be Harry Potter's. This would be the last year that the Dark Lord would have a chance to dispose of Harry before he became a fully trained and fully licensed wizard. Draco smirked; he still stood by the opinion that Harry was a bastard who was so _special_ and so _popular_ because of a stupid _scar_ on his head. 

And then there was the hated Weasley who'd managed to weasel his way into Potter's ridiculous little clique, as pathetic as his family was. It was against the natural order of things… wizarding trash like that should never have found their way into the ranks of the popular in Hogwarts. 

Lastly there was Granger. She was a stuck-up, know-it-all smart-ass who flaunted her brains like Pansy Parkinson flaunted her cleavage. But all that couldn't assuage the fact that he held her in something akin to respect. She was not one to be toyed with, nor did she fall so easily for all the many tricks of the Malfoy trade that others had. And he respected that, twisted as other people might think him. She had intelligence, and common sense with it. After all, it would have normally been impossible when in the company of Potter and Weasley's whose ideas of a smart comeback was a "Stuff it, Malfoy!" But he'd been given enough flak by his father because of the fact that he'd made a steady second place in all previous years while _she_ continued to get first place in every class she had ever attempted (except Divination, he recalled with a twisted grin).

"Master Draco, Yoku wonders if Master should get out of bed before Master's father comes." The nervous squeaking of their house elf (who'd come shortly after Dobby had been set free thanks to Potter's meddling) Yoku came from the door and he sat up to look towards her, glaring. "I'm already up, Yoku." He told her dismissing her offhandedly, and watched her squeak in surprise. "So sorry, Master, Yoku is already packed all things for Master Draco for trip to Hogwarts." He waved her away again, impatiently this time, and looked at himself in the mirror. "So, Master Draco… another year at that school, I suppose?" the mirror asked as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Last one." He headed straight for his closet where there were a few sets of Muggle clothing that he owned for the few times he traveled in the Muggle world. Pulling out a white T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, he headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before he left off towards platform 9 ¾.

There was one thing to be said about Muggle clothes… one could always be sure to show off their well-toned body in them better than robes. And as the mirror told him, he _did_ look damned sexy.

~*~*~*~

"Wormtail!" snapped the master, red eyes glowing stonily at the cringing man in front of him. Despicable, but he had his uses. "You are to take Nagini to the train and appear to be her guardian… do you understand me?" he added, as he watched the man fall to his knees trembling, and muttering incoherently.

"B-but s-sir! What if they recognize me?! Harry P-Potter will be there… and so many of the teachers t-too. They'll c-catch me!"

"If they do, you shall rot in Azkaban for the rest of your stinking, miserable life." His master replied him dismissively, giving him no pity. "You are going with Nagini to keep appearances up. Go disguised if you must. One would imagine that you would have thought of it first, being one always to hide yourself." He turned back to stare at the fire.

The girl standing behind them both with a trunk full of spell books, robes, and other miscellaneous items on the list the school had sent her. A cage with a tawny-colored owl she'd named Rio, and the wand hidden in the pocket of the hated Muggle clothing that had to be worn in order to 'keep up appearances'. As the two of them turned to leave, she walking ahead while Wormtail dragged the heavy trunk and cage, a voice came from the chair still facing the fire. "Remember Nagini. You know the consequences of your failure."

She smiled in such predatory satisfaction that one had to wonder how she would manage to appear to be human. "Failure is unacceptable… both to you and to me." She replied, saying the now-familiar human speech that issued without her translating from her mouth. Her master was great indeed.

~*~*~*~

"Baby? It's time to get up, sweetie. You're leaving for school, today." crooned the person by her bed. Hermione moaned something like "two more minutes" before turning over in her sleep. "Come on, honey, you'll be late for your train and I have no idea where that school is so I won't know how to drive you there." _That_ made Hermione spring up out of bed, narrowly missing cracking heads with her mother who sprang away just in time. "Well, _that_ certainly got you up. Now hurry, your dad's already dragging your _heavy_ trunk into the car." Hermione was already at her closet, rummaging through it again, trying to find something to wear. Her mom, who was about to leave the room, sighed, turned and walked back in, plunking herself down beside her daughter and nonchalantly choosing something for her daughter to wear while Hermione was in an all out hellfire scrabbling through the different fabrics in the closet.

Soon enough, she appeared out on the driveway in light blue spaghetti-strap tank and white denim shorts. Her father raised an eyebrow but said nothing, especially when Hermione's mother shoved an elbow in his side, effectively silencing whatever 'fatherly concerns' he had over her choice of clothing. The way to the station wasn't very far away, but it was extremely crowded and Hermione guessed, that a lot of these people were off to wizarding schools, the same as she was. She stroked her cat, Crookshanks, smiling when she noticed a car with a caged owl pass their car. When they'd finally reached the station and walked towards the very middle between platform 9 and 10, she saw Ron's mother, the last of the Weasley family enter in through the invisible barrier. She smiled, remembering the fright her parent's had had the first time they'd try to get in.

"Come on then." She muttered, bringing herself to a fast walk, not afraid anymore of crashing into the wall. And with a rush of wind, she was through, dragging her parents along with her. The crimson steam engine puffed noisily and the scripted letters of the sign with 'Platform 9 ¾' on it were all the same, and very familiar. "Made it again, dear." murmured her mother faintly as she looked back behind her at the seemingly solid wall, her father just shrugged and ruffled Hermione's hair before helping her with the cart towards the train. She looked right and left, but she still couldn't find Ron's family, which she was sure she'd seen just before her. Nor could she see Harry at all and wondered how he'd managed to get to the train station _this_ year. He'd had a different way each year, once involving a certain missing Hippogriff. It had become almost an unofficial Hogwarts tradition.

"Well, look here, if it isn't the little Mudblood." purred a voice from the side of them, and Hermione whirled at the sound of the unpleasant obscenity. It was none other than Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin girl who had the unsettling reputation of going too far with too many guys. Sabrina Granger had no idea what this girl had called her daughter, but it hadn't sounded at all pleasant and she frowned. "Excuse me? What did you call my daughter?"

The girl eyed her, sizing her up and down with a smirk on her face. "I called her a Mudblood you old hag." She sniffed, "Wasn't the barrier supposed to _keep_ Muggle trash off the platform?" Hermione looked ready to pummel the hard-faced Slytherin girl for her rude comments to her mother and to herself.

"And here I thought you two would be offering to drink tea with the Queen of England." drawled a familiar voice behind them. Hermione groaned; she did not need the two Slytherins teaming up on her when she was trying to wrestle her trunk onto the train. He appeared, the crowds amazingly parting for him. He took everything in one glance, "I guess not."

"Oh _Draco_." simpered Pansy draping herself on the broad shoulders of the blond Slytherin Seeker. He looked at her in distaste before saying, "Get off, Parkinson." Hermione's mother whispered into Hermione's ear, "Is he going out with her?"

"Not that I know of…" She replied and turned back to the task of pushing her trunk up the steps, which involved a lot of heaving and shoving and getting absolutely nowhere, "But then again, I don't know, nor do I care to know a lot about much Slytherin gossip." She kicked the trunk in frustration and shrieked in pain grasping her foot, which was wearing nothing more than a sandal with a lot of straps. 

Pansy laughed derisively as Hermione's mother and father bent to see if she was all right, she replied quite easily that she was. Draco had meanwhile been working Pansy's death grip of his shoulders and was currently working her other hand off his chest. "Parkinson, get _off_ me!" he growled, finally shoving her off him. "But _Draco_!" she whined, indignant over his obvious rejection.

"Be quiet, I don't need to talk to you."

"I don't see you saying _half_ as much to the little Mudblood or her trash folk!"

He glared at that, "I can decide when I insult other people, and I don't need your help telling me when those times are." he replied bitingly. Pansy blinked and backed away slowly, her face was a mask of confusion. "But… Draco…"

"Listen Parkinson, just get out of my sight." He growled before continuing away from both of them, Pansy (in her black tube top and black leather micro-mini and simply standing there looking pretty) and Hermione (wearing a tank top and shorts heaving a trunk about as long as she was tall up the stairs of the train). "What a strange boy, wouldn't you say so, dear?" asked Hermione's dad, Anthony Granger to his wife. "Darling, I never pry too much in my daughter's school/private life, everything's much more simpler." she replied before helping her struggling daughter with the trunk as a stunned Pansy Parkinson walked away to join a couple of Slytherin seventh years who'd just walked past.

Hermione collapsed into the compartment of the train that they always used and flopped onto the seat. Her mother took a more dignified position opposite her for the last few minutes of talk with her daughter. Mr. Granger came in a few seconds later, seating himself beside his wife. "Well 'Mione, you're off again." Her mother said wistfully, she'd miss her daughter. That was the thing about boarding schools… and hers was a magical one at that! "You'll do fine this year, just like you have before. You'll make us proud." Her father told her gruffly, he hated showing so much emotion. A warning call sounded from the front and the three of them stood up unwillingly. "Well… goodbye dear."

"Goodbye 'Mione." Her father said as they shared a group hug before her parents disappeared out the door. The sliding door slid shut and Hermione was left alone waiting for Harry and Ron. She wasn't disappointed, both of them came rushing, making Crookshanks leap up from off top of her side as she'd been lying down since her parents had left. She smiled up at them from her spot on one of the two couches, as if daring them to tell her to get up and move. "I take the full seat this year." She announced before Crookshanks, walk delicately (though he had to waddle slightly, as he was a tiny bit bowlegged) to Pigwidgeon and Hedwig's cages, sat himself down, and began cleaning his paw as he meowed to the owls. The three of them seemed to be in a conversation or more like a conversation between Crookshanks and Hedwig with a lot of exclamations about nothing in particular from Pig.

"Well 'Mione… how have the last few weeks been?"

"Absolutely dull, there's nothing to do. And this stupid git kept following me every time I left the house." She muttered, "I got absolutely _no_ sleep last night 'cause he turned up and began throwing stones at my window! Crookshanks actually attacked him!" Crookshanks turned from his conversation with Hedwig (at least… it _looked_ like a conversation… they didn't know animal speech too well… at all…) and gave her an I-had-enough-of-him look. She grinned, reaching over and patting his head, before he turned back to Hedwig, both of them trying their best to ignore Pig who was fluttering like mad around his cage.

Well, most of the train ride consisted of Harry and Ron playing chess (Harry _won_! Cheers for him! Although… there are suspicions Ron let him win…) and Hermione napped, one of her Hogwarts robes draped over her like a blanket.

~*~*~*~

Nagini was extremely annoyed. In fact, more than extremely annoyed. When out of her lord's manor, Wormtail had suddenly seemed to lose most of his cowardliness and tried to lord it over her. She had promised her lord that she would not eat this insufferable _rat_ for her supper and to appear to mind him. He was not helping. She was not very knowledgeable in the ways of humans, but she did not believe for a moment that a guardian was supposed to be touching her in this way. And Wormtail was touching her, saying in a sneering whisper, "Be silent you stupid snake and everything will seem all right." She had more than half a mind to change into her real form and bite his head off. She shoved him away, "Don't touch me. At all." She snarled, disgusted, and by the looks of everyone else, they were with him as well as he sat there gaping. 

"Excuse me miss… is he bothering you?" asked a young man, several years older than human form (which was 17) getting up from his bed on the Knight Bus. She was heading for the train station to Hogwarts. "Yes. Please, get him away." She asked, glaring at Wormtail who was looking at her shifty-eyed in his despicable way. The man's face hardened, "Now see here, this girl—"

"I am her guardian and I can do whatever I damn please!" Wormtail shouted, frightening an old witch in the bed across from them that had been trying to hide behind an ancient-looking carpetbag. "That does not include sexually harassing her!" replied the man in a more calm tone. The two people in the front, Stan and Ernie were beginning to look suspicious of Wormtail. Nagini bared her teeth in her own feral way. Her people showed their teeth only when trying to threaten another serpent. These bizarre beings meant something completely different when they smiled. And she was going to have to learn not to take offense whenever someone did smile. And, another way of knowing this was because her master had often told her such things, he being a… human for lack of a better word, himself. "Your stop miss… and you sir. 'Ope you 'ave a good time down at 'Ogwarts." Nagini nodded, as Wormtail, giving a last glare at to the man who'd been trying to keep him away from her. He grabbed the trunk and scurried after the billowing robes of the girl in front of him, muttering obscenities under his breath.

She might have to inform Lord Voldemort just how loyal this despicable appetizer was. She licked her teeth in anticipation of a feast; her master would surely let her crunch this man's bones beneath her teeth as she devoured him whole when she gave him Harry Potter. "Leave me now." She commanded as soon as he'd slunk onto the train and shoved her trunk into place in a compartment and stood there, looking around nervously, probably for Harry Potter. He growled several rude words about her but she let them slide as he shuffled off the train and disappeared into the crowds. That was one thing she knew he was good at. Hiding like a stinking rat. She leaned back on the seats of the train compartment. She busied herself in looking at her hands… they were unfamiliar to a creature that had lived several hundred years as a serpent. She preferred this 17 year-old body to that a hundred-year-old one might look. She would never have gotten close to that little boy if she looked like an old crone. She would have fooled no one if she had wanted to pass as a student.

"Come on you two bloody idiots, get in there." A voice was just outside the sliding door and one of her hands slid into the pocket of her robes for her wand in preparation as she stared at hard at the door, waiting for whomever it was to pass. The person didn't. Instead, he slid open the door and she found herself staring at a tall, fat, but strangely muscled and bulky figure. Another, just the same but slightly shorter was right behind him. It took them both a minute to process the fact that there was another human presence in their nearest vicinity. "Hey there's a girl in here!" yelled the first boy after a moment, to someone in the back behind the other boy, and he looked at her stupidly as if she might Disapparate on the spot. 

"_Fool…_" she hissed in serpent-tongue, though the words for her ears only. He wouldn't have understood it anyway, and if he could, without given directions, he could do nothing but block the doorway with his enormous bulk and stare. 

"May I help you?" she asked coldly. This boy reminded her of a certain Death Eater that had been one in Lord Voldemort's circle. "Well walk _in_ and quit staring!" the voice yelled from behind again and the two boys shuffled slowly forward, still staring at her. She finally caught sight of the boy behind them, a tall boy with white-blond hair. He also reminded her of someone she'd seen in Lord Voldemort's circle… the smug, egotistical smirk on his face…

"What're you doing in 'ere?" asked one of the fat boys and she raised an eyebrow, faintly surprised he knew how to string the words together to make a sentence. "I chose a compartment to be in during the wait to Hogwarts." The boy with the white-blond hair raised an eyebrow while the other two busied themselves with pushing the three trunks into the compartment and out of the way. The boy stepped around them and sat down in the seat across from her. "Who are you then?" he asked, "I haven't seen you in Hogwarts… ever." This last was accentuated.

"No you wouldn't have seen me, I am just transferring this year." She told him archly, her tongue running along her teeth out of habit as she spoke, she kept missing the feeling of her fangs.

"What's your name then?" She frowned at that one, momentarily forgetting the name her lord had given her. But she quickly remembered and breathed a small sigh of relief as soon as she did. "Nagini. Nagini Whetlyn." 

The boy nodded and held out his hand with that I-am-God smirk still on his face. "My name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy… You wouldn't happen to be Muggle-born now would you?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Muggle-born? Me? Of course not."

The train began to move at just that moment, but the two of the boys still standing were fighting over who was going to sit beside her, and who was going to sit beside the Malfoy boy. Malfoy… Lucius Malfoy… that was where she'd seen the resemblance. Well, like father, like son.

"Good. This is Crabbe and that's Goyle." He pointed at them with his thumb before turning and glaring as they continued to stand there, swaying with the slight rhythm of the train. He got up and sat down beside Nagini, who edged away, not used to human contact, but only just. "Now sit."

They sat.

She pursed her lips. How like a pair of trained monkeys… or would that be a pair of gorillas?

Her tongue ran along her teeth again. So they _were_ the sons of those Death Eaters she'd remembered from her Master's circle. Their fathers were just like them. Fat, dull and slow, but with enough brawn to seem intimidating. This boy sitting beside her however, interested her. He held the same iron-will command that she'd recalled Lucius Malfoy having over most of the Circle.

And he answered her probing questions so nicely… his eyes were such a nice cold gray-blue and sparked with such viciousness. She liked that.

And he might be helpful in the days ahead, in Hogwarts.

There were others who were closer to the Potter than this one, she was sure… but he would be useful. A girl had more needs than the need to serve her Master, and it had been years since she'd last met up with a serpent like her.

And as for the others… she could snare them just as easily as she caught the mice for her breakfast.

They would all fall before her, and through her, they would fall before the Dark Lord.

~*~*~*~

Hermione woke up to find Harry shaking her shoulder. "Hey, Hermione, we're going to get there in five minutes. Ron's just been up to the front. I thought you'd need to change and we're willing to step out and let you uh, you know." He turned pink and she laughed at him. "Tsk, tsk. Hasn't Ravenclaw taught you _anything_ over the course of the summer?"

He grimaced, "Not to mention such a thing as a phone to her."

"The Ron Incident?"

"All over again." he confirmed.

"Well then she has an apology to make I'm sure. Out." She noticed as he exited that he was already dressed in his school robes. And she also knew that he was right… the professors would be a step short of murder if they found out that she was wearing something "so _indecent_" beneath her robes. It would be so easy for them to find out too… all they needed to do was look down at her feet and see them enclosed in sandals without any pant leg showing, or even a glimpse of a school kilt/skirt.

Perhaps they would cross the line to murder if they saw her.

~*~*~*~

Draco yawned internally. This girl was gorgeous it must be said, and that had been what had kept him from throwing her out of their train compartment. She was all right as most girls go, and she had kept up rather well with their conversations, often the two of them leaving Crabbe and Goyle in the dust (as it was to be expected), and there were a few interesting bits of information that she held. Mostly about snakes (which he'd always had a fascination with after being accepted into Slytherin) and he'd been fine with filling her in on the miscellaneous happenigs in Hogwarts.

But for all the talk, it was all becoming rather dull, especially with both Crabbe and Goyle in the compartment, and the inability to send them away too far. He finally stood up and announced that he'd just go for a little tour around the train by himself, and Crabbe and Goyle leapt at the chance to ask her more questions about snakes (which she'd already repeated the answers to several times). Several of these included, "Why do they have scales?"

He strolled out of the compartment, and then continued on down the corridor towards the Golden Threesome, in which he figured he would most likely insult them again. He knew what would happen… they would react by keeping that confounded Weasley from jumping at him to attempt to kill while he made a snide remark and Granger would answer him with a cold reply and close the door in his face. He'd always gotten into her face about it. It had become something akin to a tradition now, starting since first year.

Without even knocking (as was his way), he slid the door open and walked in. Only then did he notice the only person who was in the compartment other in himself, was Granger, just in the act of pulling off her shirt, her shorts already lying on one of the seats. He just stood there; frozen for the second it took for the shirt to fall from in front of her eyes, look up and shriek, grabbing her Hogwarts robes to cover her. "YOU! You, you, _PERVERT_!" she shrieked, pulling the black robe around her.

He was amazed that no one down the corridor heard. But he calmly shut the door behind him. "Nice daisies, Granger." He said calmly, referring to the daisy print on her underclothes. She turned red and growled, "Shut _up_ Malfoy! I don't need any more of your snide comments."

"No need to get all worked up, Granger, it's not like I saw anything worth _seeing_." The implied insult to her body was too much added to the embarrassment. "GET _OUT_!" she finally yelled, and in the back of her mind she wondered mildly why no one else had heard and come running. 

He didn't move however, and no one came. He then had the audacity to sit down on one of the two seats, lean back, cross his arms across his chest, and smiled that slow, drawling smile he'd perfected very early on. "Continue doing whatever you were doing Granger, I won't make a sound. In fact you might even forget I'm even here…" His rough smile made her go red again. She grabbed at his shirt collar, yanking him upwards, but she had not the strength to lift him up off the seat entirely. "Get out of here or else I'm going to make sure you'll never see Graduation Day."

"Say that when I make Head Boy this year." 

She froze, she didn't hear right did she? "You… you made Head Boy?" 

Had the Head Boy and Girl already been informed? Had she really _not_ been made Head Girl? And she'd worked so hard at it… her parents had been so proud of all her accomplishments… she'd made Prefect…

"No, we haven't been told yet, have we Granger… but oh, I can guess." He smiled, noting her hand still fisted in the front of his shirt.

"And if my guesses are true… well, I'll know what you wear to bed at night too." He had that sexy, but completely infuriating smile on his face again.

She wanted to hit him.

~*~*~*~

There is more than a little problem for our resident smart one isn't there? Well you'll all found out what happens (hell, **I'll** found out what happens, I don't know what's going to happen yet) but the next chapter will soon be out. Bye for now!


	4. Chapter 03

**Against All Odds**

**Chapter Three**

Koneko-chan says!

New chapter. Ooh. Ah. Woohoo. *waves flag half-heartedly* Well, read, write (reviews) and uh, send! Email! Review! All the other stuff! Send me a new PlayStation 2! (I'd like that very, very much… but I'm not counting on it…) *pout* Well, continue on reading, and I hope you like it. You'd better like it. I worked on it. And when I work hard on something, I have to hope like heck that it turns out good. Comments are always welcome (especially if they come in the form of a review… *hint hint*)

~*~*~*~

She really, _really_ wanted to hit him.

But then, there was the fact that she was still only half-dressed. And if anyone else weren't prone to running when they heard a woman scream, they were probably sure to come running if they heard the crunching of Draco's nose if she hit him where she wanted to.

"Get out Malfoy… I'm warning you."

"Come now Granger, you're being impolite."

She hated the way he could manage every situation, even the most embarrassing of sorts and come out perfectly fine, even with the upper hand.

Rage burned through her, revitalizing what her embarrassment had taken it away from her. Two could play at that game, she would not be toyed with. Not by Draco Malfoy, the same schoolyard bully she'd known for six years in a row. He could swallow his own poison, which she would shove into him, down his throat, hoping he would choke.

She was quite unaware of the predatory smile that slowly curved itself on her face, rearranging her features into something more exotic, something so _unlike_ the traditional Hermione he'd come to know. She let go of his crisp white shirt suddenly, letting him fall back into the seat, jarring him.

(K: Am almost tempted to make Hermione _actually_ put Draco in a jar. I know I wouldn't mind him in one in my room.)

She'd see how far she could take this rigmarole.

She threw the black school robes to the side, and she vaguely heard them smack against the window, and she stood there, close enough so that Draco's eyes were immediately drawn to her chest. It was an effort to perform a seduction if one wasn't wearing anything… eye-catching. But she had not planned, when she had boarded the train, to attempt and seduce Malfoy up to the point where _she_ could walk away with the upper hand.

He gaped at her.

She leaned ever closer to his face, her voice melting into a low, husky purr, watching as his eyes slowly unfocused staring straight ahead… at her breasts as it was, such a coincidence wasn't it?

Hermione's interpretations of Draco earlier that summer in Diagon Alley had been correct. He _had_ noticed how she'd filled out, but this was the first time he'd actually gotten a good look at her. And all he could think of was… _wow_… And it wasn't as she was the first female body he'd ever seen, not even close… but he had been in control all those times, ready… he had not been ready for this.

She leaned even closer to his face, her voice melting into a low, husky purr. "Is this what you wanted to see, Malfoy?"

He'd faced down women before, in less clothes than she. But this was _Hermione_… the chipmunk girl. The one he'd never, _ever_ known to play the seduction game.

So, all he could manage was something that vaguely resembled a squeak.

…

It was the single most horrible moment of his entire life. 

He was in Hell. No, this was worse than Hell. This was the single, most mortifying moment ever a Malfoy had had. And it was just dumb luck that it had to be _Draco_ Malfoy.

Malfoys did not squeak. That was a cardinal rule.

Or at least, it _should_ be a cardinal rule.

"Didn't expect to see me like this when you saw me last now, did you?" she purred, a vague smile on her face at his verbal… (or would that be oral?) mishap. 

"Did you really believe I couldn't be anything other than boring, know-it-all Hermione Granger?"

She smiled… his lips were half-open, just begging to be kissed… and she wanted to, so badly she could already taste them. But she held herself back. Despite his dashing good looks, he was still Draco Malfoy, and she had not known him for six years without developing a keen dislike of the boy.

So nothing would happen of this harmless flirtation… if she were careful. He _was_ the son of a Death Eater after all… but she had learned to know where she would be leading. After her disastrous relationship with Krum, she'd turned to the string of Muggle boys who were all but willing to take his place. It had been they who'd taught her the art of seduction, they and cousin Aphrodesia who'd helped her perfect it. [1] She was not without her wiles. And if she looked at it in just the one way, why, Draco Malfoy was nothing more than simply another boy.

But Draco had his own experience. And he had the added edge of being a Malfoy. Once he'd regained complete possession of his bodily functions, he smiled. His slow, sexy smile with just a hint of a smirk that made most girls fall before him on their knees, and the only words they could utter were "Ravish me now(!)"

Hermione was momentarily caught aback, but she quickly gathered her wits together. "You can't spell me with your eyes, Malfoy… a girl with a past relationship with a vampire learns a few tricks when faced with personal glamour."

His eyes went wide, "I'm not a vampire."

She smiled, "I never said you were. I could have done worse and accused you of being one of the fey." She pulled back, and reached for her clothes, pulling on the white blouse and knee-length skirt that had become quite the standard for school, underneath the robes.

Draco was silent for a moment, before speaking up, "Are you trying to prove something?"

"What do I have to prove to you?" she scoffed, buttoning up her blouse.

"I wasn't talking about just me. Are you trying to prove something to… Potter and Weasley maybe?"

He must have recognized the look on her face because he smirked, "I knew it. So what did it have to do with me?"

She sat down opposite him, "You thought the same as everything else. You hated me, I hated you, it worked out well enough didn't it? But I'm sick of that. It's my last year, and I'm tired of bailing Harry and Ron out of trouble."

"Why do you even bother with those two idiots anyway?"

She bristled, ready to defend her friends, when she sighed and waved it away, "They're my friends." She replied, simply. "That makes all the difference."

Shrugging, she stood up. "Much as you annoy me, and much as I enjoyed seeing your face when I pulled that on you… Harry's coming, so…"

She shrieked suddenly, loud and piercing, and flung herself in the opposite direction, just as Draco stood up, why he didn't know. To catch her, he supposed. Damn, gentlemanly reflex at it worst.

The door crashed open and Harry barreled in, taking the scene in one, furious glance. "Malfoy you _bastard_!" he yelled, pulling out his wand without even bothering to ask questions.

"Hermione, what happened?" asked other, curious voices from behind Harry.

"I was changing and then Malfoy walked in… and I was so… so surprised… and…"

Draco gaped at her. The little minx!

He watched as she smiled mischievously at him, from her place where no one else other than he could see her face. He glared. She batted her eyelashes.

Quickly, he retrieved the situation. "I needed to talk to Granger… but apparently she can't even handle a simple locking spell, so I walked in."

"Did it ever occur to you to knock?" asked another interested bystander.

He snarled something obscene at her and she huddled away from him.

"What could you possibly have to say to Hermione?" asked Harry, continuing to look at him distrustfully.

"It had to do with something that happened over the summer for your information. And now that she has thoroughly made such a big deal out of a small accident, I'll be going."

He swept out the door, past the crowd that had gathered, and with dignity, proceeded to find out what Crabbe and Goyle were doing to the new girl. He had not been seduced by Granger. Granger did not seduce him. He had not been—oh fuck it.

God he had a hard on.

~*~*~*~

"And then snakes will _kill_ them?" asked Goyle dumbly amazed at this fact. Nagini found herself wondering whether or not Crabbe and Goyle would care if their sons killed by Lord Voldemort's right-hand woman. They were certainly making their way towards her losing control. And she didn't like being out of control; it was too dangerous. Besides, it would not improve relations with Draco Malfoy if he watched her bite off his two cronies' heads in a single bite each.

"Both of you, shut you bleeding mouths and let the girl _think_ without amazing herself at your stupidity." Draco suddenly voiced in a very irritated tone as he leaned his head on his hand, which was in turn leaning on the armrest at the side of the carriage. He looked incredibly tired and probably would've fallen asleep had she not been in the same carriage as they. "Thank you, Draco, but I doubt they heard you." She waved a hand at the two whom were sitting and staring dumbly at them both. Draco sighed, shaking his head at the two goons. Nagini smiled slowly, her hand moving up his leg in a seductive fashion. She'd learned over the years, plenty of the art of seducing a man. He looked up at her surprised, and slightly interested in what she was planning. "Tell me more about Hogwarts," she told him throatily and he shrugged rather nonchalantly. "Absolutely nothing, it's dead boring and the teacher's all have favorites. I'm glad this is my last year here."

"Really… so I perhaps made a mistake when I transferred from Durmstrang?"

"You came from Durmstrang?" asked Draco, eyes wide in surprise. "I wanted to go there… but of course Father was quite strict about my joining his alma mater." He rolled his eyes. 

"You did not tell me much more than the boredom… there must be some things that have been worth telling. I hear this school sorts their students into Houses. What house are you in?" Although there was no reason to believe that he could be in any other house other than Slytherin, she asked to 'keep up appearances'. She had read up often enough that Durmstrang was one of those schools who either accepted those willing to learn the Dark Arts, or rejected them entirely. It was a school of Slytherin in one respect, a travesty of unity Hogwarts would never have in another.

That crackpot old fool Albus Dumbledore was a complete bumbler when it came to choosing new applicants for his school. Her acceptance would mean the death of Harry Potter, Hogwarts' current celebrity. "Slytherin… are you going to be in the Sorting with the rest of the First Years?" he asked, looking like it would certainly be a disgrace. "Yes. It stands to reason, I am new to this school just as they are." she told him thinly.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with it, I mean, it's just so… demeaning."

She shrugged, "Until next year, I shall try to hold my head up high for being a seventh year that has to endure her Sorting with the rest of the First Years. But enough of my assumed humiliation… Tell me about this Potter… the one who everyone insists defeated the Dark Lord"

Draco groaned, "Does everyone have to continually harp about that blasted half-wit? That's all I've heard from anyone whenever I mention that I go to Hogwarts." 

Nagini smiled, "I was not asking you to tell me how wonderful this Potter boy is, or how strong or brave he is. I was asking for information about this boy because he can't be as perfect as everyone says he is. I expected people from the same school as him would know a little more than what that foolish Skeeter woman writes in the _Prophet_." Draco snorted, "That pathetic wretch lost her touch _ages_ ago… though I have my suspicions that Granger is behind it all."

"Granger?"

"One of the people in Potter's pitiful little clique. A Muggle." Nagini digested this little piece of information, storing in her mind for later use if need be. He'd said 'Muggle'. Interesting… she'd been sure he'd be the type of arrogant male Pureblood of the old families that would assume everyone was beneath him. She was sure he'd call this Granger a Mudblood. But he had not… quite interesting indeed.

"And you hate this Harry Potter? Him and the rest of his little 'clique'?" she said it as if it was a foreign word. And he noticed it, but left it unquestioned in his desire to rant. "Potter's a show-offing bastard that everyone thinks is so _wonderful_, Weasley's a pathetic idiot who rides around on Potter's coattails, and Granger… Granger's just a complete know-it-all. A little nothing."

It sounded that last seemed to be said more to reassure himself than to explain things to her.

"I see… and they are, may I ask, popular in this school?"

He snorted, "Hardly. Mostly with the Gryffindor bunch, but the Headmaster favors them."

"Dumbledore, is it…?" she murmured, half to herself. "Then does Dumble—" Draco never heard her finish the question because at that moment, the carriage lurched to a stop, flung open its doors, and upended the two seats on either side of it out, flinging them to the ground, and closing its doors with a snap. Draco growled in annoyance, "Of all the damned carriages in this place, we had to have the one who doesn't know its manners."

Crabbe and Goyle were too dumbfounded to even kick it.

"Wretched thing! You should have more respect for elder students of this prestigious school!" yelled Nagini, getting to her feet and glaring at the carriage, her voice wielding the power of a fearsome predator, of which he words only amplified. "Do I need to remind you that I can tear you into nothing but splinters to be fed into the fiery pits of Hell?" The thing shrank back before scuttling away from the four of them, Draco and his two bodyguard goons staring after the thing in amazement. She dusted her robe off as best of her ability before asking, curtly. "Where do I go for the Sorting Ceremony?"

Draco found himself again and replied, "We're all heading for the dining hall already… the Sorting Ceremony will be there… you're older than the rest of them so you don't have to endure the boat ride, you can join them when we get there." 

She nodded curtly, and followed the three of them (well, it is better put that Draco led, Nagini walked not to far behind, while Crabbe and Goyle lumbered along like trolls) into the school with the steady flow of students into the building. The maze of halls was easy to navigate through when one is in the center of a crowd, drawn into the direction their in like a flock of geese and a geese herd, and they soon found their way into the enchanted dining hall. Nagini was astounded, and pretended not to be, otherwise she would give away her act before it had even begun. But never, never had her masters' lairs ever been this lavish or bright and glowing. The human side of her was suddenly struck with a strange sense of joy. These were her people, her new family. She was home.

Her mind told her this was not true. They were the enemy, Harry Potter must be found and destroyed. And her mind could always be trusted where her half-human, half-serpent heart failed her.

They were just in time to see the rest of the First Years file in through a separate door looking scared, nervous, and small. So very small, fragile. Like the fat rabbits she used to feed herself with, twitching their little noses, their delicate ears in fear. Nagini swept into the field of First Years who looked up at her, wondering what in the world she was doing. She gave all that looked at her a frosty glance before looking away, towards the front of the Great Hall where the professors were seated. She stood a head and shoulders taller than all of them and was quite noticeable. People noticed. And whispered.

Then the teachers filed in, and the dining hall fell into silence. An amazingly old man stood in the center of the teacher's table and began to speak. "Another year back at Hogwarts I see! None of you have come in contact with any of the Weasley twins' wonderfully amusing joke products, I hope! Now, First Years! I bid you all welcome as a whole before you are divided into our four houses and become quite… competitive with each other. Let the Sorting begin!" before sitting down in his place.

Professor McGonagall bustled through the group of slightly frightened and extremely intimidated band of First Years and placed on a small, smooth-wood stool an old, weather-beaten and stained hat. A few words and a song later, Professor McGonagall began calling on the names of the new students beginning with "Abbot, Cammy!" and going through the list as the Sorting Hat called out their houses (beginning with "HUFFLEPUFF!" for Cammy). Finally, she reached "Whetlyn, Nagini!" and the 17-year-old stepped up onto the platform. 

Whispers sprang up anew as they stared at the tall dark-haired seductress on the platform. Dumbledore spoke up. "Ah, one of our newest additions, just transferred from Durmstrang I believe…" But his words were rather vaguely said as he looked at her inquisitively and more than a little strangely. Enough so that made her suspect he might know something about her. She certainly hoped he did not… this school had had less qualified Headmasters before, and she was not willing to cripple this great school more than necessary. After all, it was Harry Potter she had come for, not Albus Dumbledore.

She picked up the Sorting Hat and placed it on her head, alone, without the help of the stern-faced professor. The brim came down to cover her eyes, hiding her view from the inquisitive crowd. "Ah… certainly not a First Year, are you?" the voice of the hat echoed in her ear, too close for comfort. "But oh… not really a Seventh Year are you?" There was a small chill of genuine fear running down her spine. The hat could read into her mind, into her very soul to learn her secrets.

The hat continued its ramblings, ignoring her for the time being. "Courage, intelligence… oh plenty of ambition… loyalty… oh yes a lot of loyalty… but to whom, I wonder? Well then… how say you to Hufflepuff?"

She gaped, her mouth wide open. It was obvious the crowd would see this, but she paid them no mind, focusing solely on the words that the Sorting Hat in her head. _NO!_ she screamed at it mentally, she would not be demeaned in this way! She was the daughter of the Basilisk, she would be in _Slytherin_!

"Ah… I see… in that case… _SLYTHERIN!_" This last the hat bellowed out so that all in the Great Hall could hear, and the Slytherin table burst into applause. She daintily took off the hat, and made her way to the table to find a seat beside a slightly hard-faced girl. Who took one look at her, sniffed at the sight of her robes (dusty from being unceremoniously dumped into the dirt by the despicable carriage) before cuddling against an exasperated Draco Malfoy's arm (whose robes were just as dusty).

Nagini then turned her eyes away from the sickening sight before it spoiled her meal, and turned towards the Gryffindor table, watching them with inquisitive eyes, which would be where the 'Boy Who Lived' himself be seated. Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Golden Boy. Her eyes roved upon each boy seated there in turn, trying to find someone who looked like the Potter she had envisioned. She had never seen him, ever, and only two years ago had even her master seen him. She looked for him, a tall, fit, raven-haired boy probably sitting at or at least near the head of the table and talking loudest of all, putting others down before his greatness, and being an all-round pompous prat.

She saw no boy of that description, save those who were too young or too old to be him. It didn't matter to her, not in the least… she would find him soon enough, after all. There was a girl there, sitting with her nose buried in a large leather-bound book. She smiled, and her thoughts were cruel, _if it weren't for her looks, she'd be a pathetic little nothing…_ she wrinkled her nose. _And that smell! Mudblood… she reeks of it._ The entire room was entrenched with the filth, and the stink of bad blood. Her master would never have allowed it if he were he in power. _When_ he was in power.

The Sorting Ceremony had ended and McGonagall had whisked away the Sorting Hat, and the stool it had been seating on, and disappeared through a side door. Though by this time, no one was really paying attention to her, but more so at each other, recognizing old faces, greeting the new. She continued to search the Gryffindor table. Where was Harry Potter? The table was too far away to tell who had a jagged scar on his forehead…

"Looking for someone?" asked the person next to her, making her jump, and she whirled around with her fangs already half-shifted in reflex, though she managed to keep herself from baring them. It was Draco. She relaxed slightly, shifting her fangs back into their normal-sized canines.

"Not especially," Nagini replied, putting on a bored expression on her face, "I _did_ wonder if the know-it-all in the corner of that table would be in any of my classes this year. I think I would leave, wouldn't you?"

"You mean Granger?" Draco asked with another one of his hard smiles, "You were right when you said she was a know-it-all… been in some of my classes, that one. Thinks she knows everything even if she is a Mu—ggle."

She didn't miss his hesitance to say the word 'Mudblood', and she looked back at the brunette with a look of interest. What power had she, who would make this arrogant young man hesitate to call her what she was? If she had only had had a wizarding family, it was most likely she would have been a very acceptable girl. But she was not, and in the world that she was determined to erect for the Master, she had been weighed and found wanting. In the new world of the Master's, _almost_ was the same as _nothing_.

"A few more words before we settle down to our wonderful feast, children." Dumbledore said, and instantly, there was silence amongst those assembled, "This year, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been found to replace Professor Tolkey who has currently held the record for keeping the position for two years in a row." At this, Hermione, who had noticed Professor Snape's sour expression, noticed his overlarge nose wrinkle in disgust and only a quick jab in the ribs from Professor Vector sitting beside him kept him from muttering several (most likely) very rude words about the new teacher. "I present to you, Professor Sa Lai, also known to you students as Professor Sally, as I have no doubt she would prefer you to call her."

"What kind of last name is 'Sally'?" muttered a girl from the Hufflepuff table.

A slightly short Asian woman stood, her robes of myriad colors that should have clashed but looked gorgeous on the shining material fit the little nymph-like woman quite daintily as she smiled at the entire Hall, flashing amazingly white teeth.

Instantly, Nagini felt a shiver go up her spine. She was not alone, because that was what the smile had inspired. In the flickering of candlelight hanging suspended in the air above their heads, they could see that the new professor's eyeteeth were more than that. They were amazingly sharp, pointed fangs.

"Vampire!" shrieked a girl from somewhere in the student body, and a sudden buzz of conversation began anew at this new discovery. After all, wizarding society in general certainly didn't look too kindly upon the Children of the Night as the vampires were so kindly dubbed, even though most could withstand the rays of the sun as well as any other normal witch or wizard. That they were reliant only upon human blood to survive was a matter that most found horrifying however, hence the prejudice.

Nagini did have to have a fleeting sense of admiration for the Headmaster… he didn't really care what prejudice said about vampires… he had hired one nonetheless. She could see some of the power in his old, lined face, and she could see why even the Master had once been wary of this man. She could also see power glowing in the new woman in such vast quantities that it seemed she was more powerful than any other she had ever known… and Nagini had met plenty of powerful witches and wizards over the centuries. What was even more intriguing was the curious smell that usually associated with Dark magic. Did this woman really dabble in the Dark Arts? She frowned. And it wasn't that… the woman didn't just _dabble…_ she was _skilled_ in the arts of the Dark side. Interesting… was she another spy the Master had planted in the school's midst? He had done it once before she knew.

The new professor stopped smiling immediately, and a frown darkened her face and Nagini instinctively cowered as she felt, rather than saw, the sudden buildup of unnatural magic inside the woman. But Dumbledore spoke up before she could say even a single word. "There will be none of that." he thundered over the masses, silencing them instantly. "Professor Sa Lai is a woman who has dealt with what she is going to teach you, and none of you will be given any reason to be in any danger around her." His face darkened, "Unless, of course," he added, "Should you think to misbehave in any of your classes… then the consequences, I fear will be dire." Nagini nearly took that to heart before she noticed none of the other students seemed to. Only the other first years laughed nervously.

"Now, to the process of feeding and watering all these hungry mouths… but of course, a few more words are necessary. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" and with that he sat down with great satisfaction.

Nagini looked at him as if he had gone quite insane.

But as she turned away, the aroma of food swept through her human nostrils. She looked down to see the golden place filled with food that made her mouth water despite her reluctance to attempt to eat anything that resembled 'human food' after centuries of feeding herself on rodents like Wormtail. She had become used to eating the flesh of any worthless human that her master found useless to him. But her new 'human senses' were quite dominant while she was a, well, human.

And so, she picked up her fork with a little reluctance, and using the foreign tool, began to eat slowly, mimicking the actions of the Ravenclaws at the table across from their table, as they seemed to be eating their own food with relatively good skill at using the cutlery. Several of the Slytherins on the other hand (namely the two who had bombarded her with such idiotic questions on the train), seemed Neanderthal enough to seem to still consider shoving as much food in one's mouth with their hands is good table etiquette. Even Nagini, who had been a snake for the most of her life knew they were horrible with manners.

Pansy, having been comfortably latched onto Draco's arm (who had given up long ago trying to wrench her loose), turned to Nagini, giving her full attention to the new girl, sizing her up once more. Nagini, having just finished swallowing a mouthful of roast beef daintily (whole) as her real serpent body might have swallowed a mouse, looked back at the girl, blinking at her a trifle owlishly. "Yes?"

"Are you some kind of idiot or something?"

She blinked. "Pardon me?" She asked, wondering what in the world at spawned _that_ unflattering comment.

"I asked if you were some type of village idiot that decided she was good enough to go to a wizarding school. What other kind of person would you be crawling all over _my_ Draco on the train?"

"Your Draco?" she asked innocently, before snapping her fingers as if just recognizing the name. Draco made a face at Pansy, and attempted to loosen her hold on his arm, which she resisted admirably. The girl had a better grip than Nagini had first credited her. "Oh, you mean, him." she said, gesturing at Draco offhandedly, "Why no, I wouldn't call my behavior on the train crawlingall over _him_," she said, mimicking Pansy's insulting tone. "I would call it tolerating the company of his two vulgar companions during the train ride."

Pansy didn't bother relaxing. She had the cold, pinched look that most Slytherin girls developed over their time down in the dungeons of Slytherin house. "Are you insulting the company my boyfriend keeps?"

Nagini had had enough. She addressed Draco. "Draco, you never mentioned this girl was your girlfriend…" she pasted a look of curiosity on her face. "I would have thought you might have told me, before she thinks I'm intruding into her territory!"

Apparently Draco had had enough as well. He wrenched his arm free of her grasp, and gave her such a cold look with his silvery-gray eyes that she backed down immediately. "Pansy."

That one word was enough to keep her away from him for the rest of supper. Nagini was rather impressed at the expression on the face of Draco Malfoy, as he glared at his plate after each bite he took, unwilling to instigate any conversation with anyone else at his table.

_Interesting…_ Nagini thought to herself, with a small look of triumph. It would be easy to take Draco Malfoy away from this Pansy girl if ever she'd had a hold on him. He could prove to be a very satisfactory distraction from her dealings with this mysterious Harry Potter.

Her eyes searched the Gryffindor table again. Which one was Harry Potter?

~*~*~*~

The end of the meal was near, and conversation had begun anew when they'd been well fed after the long trip on the train. Hermione found herself abandoning her leather-bound book for an interesting conversation with Amy Moon next to her, a Fifth Year. That was, of course, before Dumbledore interrupted all conversations in the Hall.

"Before we all leave to go to our beds… there is one item of importance that I have overlooked to tell you. Those who had have been hoping for the title of Head Girl or Head Boy had as of yet, not received their letters, and are properly frantic, I believe. However there were several… complications. There has been a slight problem with our newest Seventh Year student." Hermione held her breath, picking out the dark-haired Slytherin girl from the table across the room. Slight problem? _What_ slight problem?

"We have received a letter of recommendation from Durmstrang where Miss Whetlyn has just transferred, in all years of her study in that school. And, in fact, miraculously it rivals that of our own top Seventh Year student." Hermione's breath caught. This new girl? Would she take away the title Hermione had worked so hard for? She began to wring her hands, and old childish habit she had thought she had broken herself of. Apparently not.

"And so… therefore, as their marks are closest, there will be, in fact, _two_ Head Girls. Nagini Whetlyn, our newest transfer—" Applause rose from the Slytherin table. Hermione squeezed her eyes tight together and bunched her hands into fists, waiting for the other Head Girl's name to be called. "—and Miss Hermione Granger."

The entire Gryffindor table leapt to their feet, cheering as if at a Quidditch game. Ron laughed at the blissed out expression on her face. "Not that we were really expecting anyone else, were we, Hermione?" he asked, blue eyes twinkling in that way they always did whenever he was happy. Hermione felt her face would split, she was smiling so much. At last! At last, at last, at last!

"And our Head Boy is…"

Hermione, by this time, was sitting all the way up on Cloud Nine, and was too ecstatic to pay attention to the reality around her, before she was shocked out of her bliss by every person sitting at the Gryffindor table standing up and booing. "What's going on?" she asked Ron, who of course, didn't hear her, being too busy protesting along with the rest of the table. Harry, sitting beside her shook his head, "It's Malfoy," he replied wearily. "He's Head Boy." He didn't sound angry, just resigned to it as was his way with most things these days. The war against Voldemort was really taking a toll on him, who was supposed to be something like the Second Coming of Christ. 

"Malfoy…?" she repeated dumbly, staring at the blond boy looking up at Dumbledore from the Slytherin table, studiously ignoring the evil looks shot at him from the Gryffindors. _Oh no…_ she moaned internally, holding her head in her hands. _Malfoy…_

Professor McGonagall rushed down to the Gryffindor table, her voice rising high above the rebellious yelling of the Gryffindors, and the retaliating screaming of the Slytherins. "Sit!" she told them loudly, "_Now!_" she bellowed, striking all of them dumb, including the Slytherins, before making her way back to the Head table.

Dumbledore, hiding a smile behind his beard, couldn't hide his twinkling eyes, even though his face had a faint resemblance to his 'serious face'. "Now… after that… opinionative remark from the Gryffindors over our new Head Boy… may all three of our new Head students follow Professor Snape to their new dormitories? As for the rest of us… off to bed now, follow the Prefects."

Professor Snape stood, looking as if he'd just been force-fed several cupfuls of Polyjuice Potion. He stepped down from the table with a frown, and stood waiting while first Hermione, then Draco, then lastly Nagini swept up towards him in her lengthy, gliding walk which no amount of practicing using these new limbs could make her lose. The grace of a serpent was not lost easily. Without another word to any of them, he turned and led them down the hallways where clanking armor turned to watch them, and the paintings and portraits that lined the walls watched them and whispered, some waved, some turned away, all moved. 

Finally, Snape reached a specific portrait, stopping in front of it, with a sick look on his pale face. Hermione gasped in recognition, as she saw the images of Sirius Black and James Potter as she remembered seeing them in Harry's photo album once. They were younger of course, and looked about her age. She also realized, that both of them were incredibly good-looking. She had seen pictures before, of course, but this was the first time she had _noticed_.

Snape's face grew even more pinched as he looked on the face of his once worst enemy. "This is it," he told them shortly.

Hermione stepped up, and Sirius was the first to look down and grin charmingly at her. "Wow… finally, a real looker of a Head Girl… it's been _ages_!"

She flushed prettily despite herself and she grinned back up at him, "I thought you two weren't _ever_ supposed to be made Head Boy… how did you manage to guard the common room the Head Students' common room?"

James looked down at him, and frowned at her. "Have we met?" he asked, frowning as if trying to place her. That look of puzzlement on his face was so alike to Harry's that she laughed. "No, No…" she looked furtively at the rest of the people with her, for a moment wishing desperately that she had been alone to talk to Sirius and James. She had never really known Sirius, and, of course, had never even met James. 

He smiled genially back at her, "Lily is loads prettier though, no offense to you, little lady." James said, hand gesturing along the line of portraits in the corridor. "She's down there, third from the right of us, you can't miss her."

Hermione nodded, "I've seen her. But I've never _talked_ to her before…" she trailed off, when she sensed Snape's presence at her elbow. He eyed the portrait with a look of undisguised hatred, before he turned Hermione around by the shoulders. "Now, if you don't mind, we have a password that needs deciding," he told the three of them, promptly ignoring the snide comments from both Sirius and James.

Hermione shrugged carelessly, "I don't really care what our password is."

Snape eyed her coldly, "You'll have to," he told her, "As you'll also have to know the passwords to every other door in this school. You _are_ a Head Girl."

She nodded, not daring to disagree with him. "Yes, sir."

Sirius sniggered in the background, "Pity you. Having to call a greasy git like him, _sir_."

Hermione resisted the impulse to turn around and smile at him. Sirius Black, 17, was much, much more fun to be around than when he had been convicted of mass murder.

"The _password_, Miss Granger. Please join the discussion, and continue your conversation with Mr. Black and Mr. Potter at some other time. Preferably when I am not present."

She nodded demurely, "How about…" she thought quickly, and her mind flashed to the first thing she could think of. "To rule… them… all?"

None of them got the reference. There was a chorus of, "Huh?", "Excuse me?", and "I beg your pardon?" 's.

She shrugged, "I don't know… it's a line from Tolkien."

This time, amazingly, it was Draco who seemed to recognize the name. He looked a little less confused. "Tolkien… he a writer?"

Hermione stared at him, "Well… yes…"

Now Snape understood. "He was a wizard," he informed Hermione who stared at him speechless, "Who lost his wand over some incident or another, and went to live in the Muggle world. Never knew he became a writer. Interesting." He shook his head, "'To rule them all', it is." he said shrugging. "It will do for now. I am surprised, Miss Granger. I expected something more Gryffindor from you."

She frowned at him but didn't say anything. "Nonetheless, it is late, and I have no time to be spent talking here with you. Get in, and if I find out there has been any disturbance, you will be most promptly dropped at the doorstep of Dumbledore's office." He glared at the portrait of Sirius and James. "Open."

"You'll have to say the password, Sevvie."

Hermione grinned up at him behind Snape's back, and he winked back at her.

"Open the portrait hole, Black, or I'll have you two replaced." Snape snarled at the two in the portrait.

James rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Whatever." The portrait swung open immediately, nearly hitting Snape in the side of the head. He made a swift gesture with his hand towards it, "Get in."

Draco and Nagini scrambled in first, but Hermione lagged behind, and she tugged at Snape's robes when she realized he was too busy glaring at the portrait to notice her. "What?" he asked irritably when he noticed her beside him.

"I just wanted to know… about Sirius…" she gestured at the portrait, "He doesn't know who I am, does he?"

"I would have thought you would have realized this when you saw him. He and Potter are as they were when they were seventeen." And beneath his breath, he muttered something that sounded a lot like, "unfortunately…" with a look of distaste at the back of the portrait.

"Then… would it be all right if I told Harry? And he came to talk to his dad?" she made small gestures with her hands. She was afraid to say more, but he got the idea.

"There are no rules against his coming and speaking to the _portraits_," he told her with the same irritable tone. "Of course, I shudder at the thought of the two of them together. One at a time is despicable enough to handle." He swept away down the corridor, his robes billowing behind him.

"Right then…" she turned back to the portrait hole, which was still open. "Uh Sirius? James?" the portrait swung back, nearly shutting, but not all the way."

"Aren't you going in? We're not going to stay 'round forever… they're a couple of fine-looking girls up in the corner rooms upstairs."

"You… you won't know me… but I'm Hermione Granger."

James scratched his head, "Never had a Head Girl introduce themselves to a portrait of me before…" he said, "Guess it's nice to meet you too, Hermione."

"Right…" Sirius squinted, looking down at her, "Have we met?"

"No… well, I haven't met you… as you… I don't think…" Hermione stopped, flustered. "I know—_knew_ you in my time. You… uh," she looked down, "You died two years ago."

The two boys in the portrait turned white as they stared down at her in shock. "I'm… _dead_?" repeated Sirius. "Me?"

"Yeah…"

"What about… me?" asked James, hesitantly. "I mean, not a whole _lot_ of time has gone along, right?" he looked nearly panicked, and Hermione almost regretted telling them.

"You… um…" she shook her head, "I think Harry should tell you all that," she told them firmly, looking up from where she was staring at her feet.

"Harry? Who's Harry?" asked James blankly. "How would he have anything to do with me?"

"He's your… he's your son."

"_I have a son?!_"

"You have a son?" echoed Sirius, staring at his best friend. "Wow… you _did_ get lucky!"

James ignored him for the moment. "Does he go to this school?" he asked suddenly, all traces of humor gone. "Is he in Gryffindor?"

"Yes… he'll come soon enough looking for me. I'm his… one of his… best friends."

"Great!" and James was back to normal, smiling again. "I can see that my strapping good looks didn't go to waste!" Hermione shrugged, "I suppose. A lot of the girls around here _do_ fancy him. I don't know why you haven't seen him until now. We've gotten into a lot of scrapes in this school… take us everywhere. I must say, your map and your Cloak certainly have come in handy." She grinned at them, "Now, be nice and let me in."

Sirius and James were both staring at her openmouthed, wondering how the hell she knew about those selfsame secret articles she'd just mentioned. "How did you—?"

"I'm his best friend… remember?"

Sirius laughed out loud, "You little minx."

She grinned at him, batting her eyelashes quasi-flirtatiously, "So the boys tell me." The portrait hole swung open with the two of them still laughing good-naturedly, while she scrambled into the portrait hole, and she got her first view of the Head students' common room. It was almost just like the Gryffindor common room, but certainly much more lavish, and she literally fell into one of the plump violet sofa chairs, rapturously sinking into the deep cushioned softness.

"Going to even bother _looking_ at your bedroom then, Granger?" asked a rather sardonic voice from behind, and she leaped to her feet in surprise. Of course, it was Draco Malfoy standing inside an open doorway, and she could see Nagini standing in front of a different doorway with her name written neatly on a small brass plaque on the door. "Oh… yes, that would be a good idea." She floundered out of the chair and dashed towards the only door left. She was left speechless as she stared at it, so used to seeing several other girls looking up whenever she entered the girls' dormitories in Gryffindor. It was simple, but quite elegant, just like her tastes. And on one shelf, there sat predominantly an enormous bookshelf that covered most of one wall. "It's… perfect…" she breathed, surveying it, and the bed especially, which had been laid over with a red silk comforter and gold satin bed sheets. "Better than mine, I'll say. I think Dumbledore favors you."

"I know. We're such lucky, jammy Gryffindors," she replied laughing, still ecstatic enough about achieving all this that even Malfoy didn't seem to annoy her at all, though he had showed up in the doorway of her room. Her trunk was beside her bed already, and most of her things were unpacked already… certainly her clothes were in the dresser, though miscellaneous items had been left, such as her large collection of books. It wasn't until she had bounced her way across the bed towards it and onto the floor beside it, ready to unpack the rest of it that she noticed Malfoy still standing in the doorway, watching her with that same half-smile still on his face.

"Yes?" she asked, waving a hand, as if to attempt to catch his attention.

He blinked, then focused on her. "Uh… right…"

She continued to stare at him, nonplussed.

"Well… I really have nothing to say…" he admitted with a shake of his head, and a slightly rueful smile appeared hesitantly on his face, as if he weren't quite sure how to act around her anymore. She supposed he was trying to be civil, which certainly was a nice change.

"You would, Malfoy." She laughed, still ecstatic enough about achieving all this that even Malfoy's strange behavior didn't bother her at all. Her trunk was beside her bed already and she pounced on the bed, bouncing over it and onto the floor beside her trunk ready to unpack before she turned to see Malfoy still standing in the doorway, watching her almost dazedly. "Yes?" he blinked and half-shook his head before focusing on her again. "Nothing, nothing really…" He straightened and turned around, walking out of the doorway. She raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off, and went back to work unpacking.

By the time the clock dancing in pirouettes on slender twig-like feet singing the time at odd moments, squeaked out "10:00 p.m.!" she had already finished shoving the last of her extensive book collection into the bookshelf which had suddenly appeared to have shrunk. It was apparent it hadn't, according to the tape-measure she'd conjured up, but then… she eyed the small mountain of books she had yet to shelve, and sighed. Where would they go now?

She sat herself down on her bed for a moment, lying flat down on it and staring up at the high, sloped ceiling for a moment, before she rolled over to continue staring at the piles of books still on the floor. One caught her eye. "Oh!" she exclaimed, snatching it from underneath a copy of _Moste Potente Potions_ she had snuck from a bookshop in Knockturn Alley once after reading it in her Second Year. "I didn't know I brought this!"

She threw herself back against the large plush pillows and began to read, rapturously sinking into the fluffy satin recesses of the satin pillows, the rest of the books forgotten. That was a hazard of being a bookworm, faced with this many books. One was _bound_ to catch her attention and she would simply _have_ to read it all over again.

"Another one of your textbooks, Granger?"

She bounced up into a sitting position at once with a squeal. "Malfoy!" She glared at him, crossing her arms. "Don't you ever _knock_?!"

He paused as if that idea had never occurred to him, then dismissed it. "Not under normal circumstances, no."

She rolled her eyes, "Why am I not surprised?"

He watched her, as she let out a yawn, stretching, and working out the kinks in her back without any self-consciousness, or true awareness that he was watching her every move. She had changed since she'd unpacked, and dressed as she was in a satin tank top and matching pajama bottoms, she now looked up at him, blinking owlishly. "Well? Isn't it a little late?"

He shrugged, "I'm nocturnal. One of the reasons I like to sleep in late." He watched her as he talked, taking in her face free of makeup, her messy ponytail, and baby blue pajamas, she looked positively _pretty_. Of course, she always had been rather attractive… but not a full-fledged shining star. Seeing her like this just showed that it didn't have to take a lot of work to be beautiful.

She looked at him with disapproval, the same look he had often seen her cast at Potter and Weasley when she was scolding them over something or other. "But you're Head Boy… you should be setting a better example for the younger students." Draco too, had changed out of his school robes and uniform… if you could call taking off everything except a pair of black silk boxers, _changing_. Hermione too noticed his long lean form, and the hint of a musculature that was so well hidden in that fine-boned figure. She found herself too answering a mental question from a long time ago. Why didn't Draco Malfoy tan? Because he looked so damn good with pale skin. And he knew it. That white-blond hair would have looked completely washed out if he tanned even the slightest.

He raised an eyebrow, "Granger, I'm a Slytherin. I'm not one of your Gryffindor golden boys. What makes you think I _care_?"

"You can still get your badge revoked, you know." She replied sweetly, a corner of her mouth lifting up in a very good imitation of his practiced leer.

"And I suppose you and _Potter_ are going to recommend that." A flash of anger flew across his face, making his facial features appear harsher, more clearly defined. "You're good at that… taking everything I work to get and then throwing it in my face with another one of Potter's _fabulous_ victories." The bitterness in his voice was tangible.

"And it was always so one-sided, wasn't it?" she replied, getting angry in her own turn. 

"We were always the ones picking on _you_, weren't we? We were always the ones setting our giant bodyguards to threaten you, or attempting to ruin teachers' reputations, weren't we?" she said, with a hint of great disgust, "You aren't the angel in this story, so stop _trying_ to be!"

He glared at her, his old malice returning. "I never said I wanted to be an angel, Granger." He told her coolly, "But I suppose that probably is what you would expect, dealing with the likes of _Potter_ and _Weasley_." He said their names as if they were a curse. 

"Most likely," she replied just as frostily. "But then, when has it been your job to tell me who are my friends and who are not? _You_ certainly haven't proven yourself to be a worthwhile person to befriend. Why should I bother with what you think, regardless of whether you are Head Boy or not?"

He shrugged, "My dashing good looks?" he offered.

"No go, Malfoy."

"Fine…" he sighed, "Listen, I wanted… er…" for the first time he looked flustered and she raised an eyebrow at that.

"I… I mean… well, it's about Potter."

"What about Harry?"

"Well… there's going to be another Triwizard Tournament. Here. Again."

She gaped at him. "_What?!_ Even after what happened last time it was held here?"

He nodded, "Father found out through one of his more… dubious contacts through the Ministry."

She accepted that, and asked instead, "So what does it have to do with Harry?"

"Take a guess, Daisy… you know as well as I do Potter will be entering… just _loves_ the popularity and the people fawning all over him, doesn't he?" he sneered, "Perfect Potter, have to prove himself to everyone."

She glared at him, and her voice was shrill as she defended her absent friend. "No he's not!" she told him, "He never wanted any of that to happen to him…!"

He raised a languid eyebrow, "Who said I had to believe what _you_ think?"

She glared at him; "You're not answering my question. What does the Tournament have to do with Harry?"

He rolled his eyes skyward, "This is what I get in return for offering unasked for information to a Gryffindor…" he muttered, with a look of frustrated impatience on his face. Patience was a virtue that just did not go well with Draco Malfoy's coloring. "It's our last year as students, Daisy," he told her slowly, as if to a small child, "which means that after this year, we're allowed to use our wands… whenever. That was the reason your precious _Harry_ got into so much trouble throughout the years isn't it? Flouting that Ministry Decree?"

"It wasn't his fault—" she began heatedly, but he cut her off.

"Which means that after this year, when we're legally adults and licensed with our wands for day-to-day use, You-Know-Who will have to be a lot more cautious with the stuff he's going to try to do to Potter won't he? And isn't the Triwizard Tournament the _best_ time to get rid of him?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, "You… why…" she shook her head as if to reorganize her thoughts back into some semblance of order in her head, "Why are you telling me this? Why not speak to Dumbledore?"

"_Dumbledore_?" snorted Draco, crossing his arms. "Who do I think I am Daisy? Potter? The Headmaster is by no means tight with me as you are with my father."

She frowned at his mentioning of his father. Beastly man… had met him the previous year. Certainly had left something of an impression.

"Well… your father… does he know about this?" she asked.

For a moment, something that closely resembled fear flitted across his face at her mentioning of his father. Then he shook his head quickly, "Nah." He said, reclaiming his composure, "He still thinks I hate you."

"Don't you?" she retorted, crossing her arms with a frown.

"I refuse to answer that without a lawyer, and possibly a mediwizard nearby." He drawled, "Not after the callous treatment I received from your friends, particularly that Ginny spitfire, back in Fifth year."

"Once bitten, twice shy you mean?" she asked with a quirk of her lips, "What a wonderful way to put off answering me."

He shrugged carelessly, "Whatever keeps me alive," he replied lightly, before his expression turned serious. "But I wasn't trying to trick you when I told you to pull Potter from the Tournament."

"How do you know this there even _is_ a Tournament?" she demanded, "Dumbledore didn't mention anything at tonight's feast…"

He smiled, "My father may have been disgraced," he told her, "But that doesn't mean he doesn't still have many good connections to the Ministry and the goings on in there. Trust me… there _will_ be an announcement about that Tournament any day now."

"Then why would they be keeping it a secret? I mean, he told us the first night Fourth year didn't he?"

He shrugged, "Expect Dumbledore had to push really hard to let the Ministry give him back his school back in Fifth year… taken a lot of work to get back in the Ministry's good graces. Place is still as corrupt a place as ever there was. Probably isn't finalized yet." He frowned, "But it will be," he said with a dark look on his face, "_He_ wouldn't stand for it if they tried to veto the idea."

"He? You mean… You-Know-Who?" Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed, as they approached a delicate subject of discussion between two old enemies. "How do you know so much about You-Know-Who's plans anyway? And why are you telling me?"

He took a deep breath before pinning her in a dead stop with those ice-blue eyes of his. "How I know about the Dark Lord's plans? Well… you're the bright one aren't you? It wasn't very hard to figure out on my own once I heard tell of the Tournament being held. They're going to try and assassinate Potter again… they're always at it. As for why I'm telling you…" he trailed off, never looking away from her eyes, "Well, you're one of the only three in this whole bloody school who I _know_ is in Dumbledore's Alliance, or whatever it is you called yourselves. And of the three of you, you were the only one who was the least likely to try and curse me on sight."

"You just might be overestimating my restraint, Malfoy." She replied with a wry smile that might have been the twin of his own. "And you've got a lot of faith in me for someone you've hated for the past six years… I was under the impression you didn't care to want to know anything about me… or Harry and Ron for that matter."

He shook his head, "I hated Potter because he was always so full of himself and was always so _adored_ by everyone. I hated Weasley because he was an idiot that just rode along on Potter's coattails. I hated you on principle." He shrugged, "Twisted principles perhaps, but then I was raised that way." When she eyed him dubiously, he replied, "Well it was like that Muggle Gerry… Rudolf Hitler or whoever."

"Adolf Hitler," she corrected automatically.

"Whoever," he repeated accompanied with a roll of his eyes, "It was like what he said… 'Give me a child at the age of four and he'll be mine for the rest of his life' or… something like that. I just meant that… I guess when you're raised that way, you're always led to believe that's the _right_ way."

She nodded, still rather dubious, but the suspicious light in her eyes was dimmer than before, "Then… what made everything different? For you, I mean."

"I…" he hesitated, "Well… just this whole damn _war_. There's tension everywhere… you can feel it beneath all their bloody happy-go-lucky prattle and no one's doing _anything_… aside from Potter that is," he added, his lip curling in patented disgust, "But we all knew he was bound to get in trouble."

"He—" she began before she cut herself off with a shake of her gorgeous head of curls that for some reasons, seemed so much more tamer than they had when he'd first met her. "No, I'm not going to take the bait," she said with a wry grin, "You're entitled to your own opinions. But kindly refrain from bashing from friends in front of me."

He raised an eyebrow, "And you're requesting this of a _Malfoy_?"

"Oh do shut up, _Malfoy_," she replied delicately, throwing her nose up in the air in an imitation of his mother. Which, thankfully, he did not recognize.

He frowned at her, "And that's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?"

"'_Malfoy_'," he mimicked in the exact same tone she had previously used. "I mean, jolly good that you know it and all, but if I'm trying to be civil to you—and you know when I'm trying—then I think you should return common courtesy."

"And referring to that rather embarrassing debacle with my underclothes as a… nickname seems hardly appropriate, wouldn't you think?"

He blinked innocently at her, "How do you know I was talking about your underclothes?" he asked with a rather lascivious smile on his face, to which she self-consciously adjusted her bra strap just in case it was showing. It wasn't. "How do you know I wasn't referring to…" his eyes swept her up and down, "…your anklet?"

She glanced down and looked at the delicate silver chain around her slim ankle, "Oh. But… were you?" she asked, that same lazy, sultry smile that she had used on him back on the train reappearing on her face.

He felt his mouth go dry. After all, she was a girl. A beautiful girl. Sitting there in her bed. Right in front of him.

Wait… when had he thought she was beautiful? He'd come to realize that she was pretty. _Pretty._ Beautiful was simply a whole new level of feminine attributes that he hadn't previously pinned on Hermione Granger. Apparently the rules had now changed.

Now he had a slim idea why Longbottom and Weasley had been so enamored of her. That Finnigan character hadn't been able to take his eyes off her since Diagon Alley either.

She was still watching him, that infuriatingly captivating smile of hers refusing to fade. He forgot what he was about to say. He could see that knowledge simply absorbing itself into her as her smile widened just a touch.

So he was very thankful when Nagini Whetlyn chose that moment to poke her head through, and look at them both with a slight frown on her face. "Was there a meeting that I was unaware of?" she asked, "Or are you two simply indulging in a bit of conversation between yourselves before bed?"

Hermione smiled warily at the newly-made Slytherin and newly-made Head Girl to boot. "A little of both," she replied with a hesitant smile. "You might join us if you like," she offered gesturing to the one available chair that was not occupied by one Draco Malfoy. Nagini stepped into the room, dressed in an emerald green dressing gown of raw silk and they watched her strangely graceful, rolling walk that would have looked awkward with anyone else, as if she was not used to walking on the ground (which she certainly was not) like anyone else. 

Once she sat down, she eyed them both with animal-like patience, "Very well… what is there to talk about?"

"Names," Hermione replied promptly, "And how no one seems to be able to say my name right on the first try. Or on the second for that matter," she added with a small frown.

"Herm-my-o-ninny…" Draco half sing-sang under his breath, before earning himself a frown from the brunette, and a confused expression on Nagini's.

"Do shut up, Malfoy."

"Now, now, what did I tell you about my name…?" he admonished her, shaking a mocking finger at her, "Tsk, tsk Daisy, and I thought you had a better memory than that…"

She rolled her eyes, "Not that you have a better one than most," she retorted, "Last I saw him, Krum _still_ couldn't get my name right."

"You didn't know him for a very long time, did you now?" Draco replied with a shrug, "Affair didn't last very long Fourth year did it?"

"Whatever made you think I'm not still dating with him?" she replied archly, and watched with an internal grin when his mouth fell open.

"D'you mean to tell me that you're still with that _duck_ of a human being?"

She grinned, "No," she replied sweetly, and laughed out loud when he saw his immediate frown, "But we _were_ still an item until this summer. Got sick of trying to talk with him when there are several witches watching from behind upside-down _Witch Weekly_ magazines."

"And… what happened to him?" he asked with a sinking feeling. Hermione didn't seem to be the type to break things off easily, "Him? Oh he found some other worthy fan girl to swoon over. 'Course he ended up with an ugly lump on his face when he got nasty about my breaking up with him. Boy next door came to the rescue."

"And then the summer flings. Daisy, you party girl."

She rolled her eyes but did not answer.

Nagini raised both her eyebrows, "Why do you call her 'Daisy'?" she asked finally, "I distinctly heard the Headmaster call her 'Hermione' tonight or was I mistaken?"

Hermione flushed, "No… no you weren't mistaken. _Draco_ here," she said with a nasty look in his direction to which he had a saintly look on his angelic features, "decided I could do with a pet name."

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "Such women you socialize with, Draco… that Pansy character… and now a Mu—ggle." She shook her head, turning to Hermione and the strange expression already flitting over her face. They all knew what she was about to say. "Forgive me," she said, though she nearly bit her own tongue out at the blasphemy… thank the Heavens the Master could not see her now! "I was raised under… alternative principles."

Hermione nodded stiffly, "I understand." Then she shook her head and managed a weak smile, "Well… a different topic then. How about… where did you come from?"

"Durmstrang, I transferred here. Apparently Karkaroff was an idiot. Murdered last year. Decided to transfer before anything else happened."

"And you came to Hogwarts?" Draco drawled with a raised eyebrow, "Where the Dark Lord decided he would wipe out off the map first?"

She shrugged, "I do not make the decisions. My… guardian does."

"Guardian? No parents?" Hermione asked. She was a quick one… Nagini would have to be wary of that one.

"No, killed… the both of them." _One of them several stories below the floor on which we stand upon now,_ she thought to herself in a sudden wash of old bitterness.

"I see." Neither of them showed anything more than a flash of sympathy… and that made her respect for the both of them—yes even the Mudblood—rise just a little bit more. They weren't bleeding hearts, neither of them.

"Anyway, you said you were from Durmstrang," Draco said, returning to the old topic, "Did you know Victor Krum?"

"Krum? The Quidditch player?" she rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of Hermione's previous gesture, "With Karkaroff fawning over him as if he were his own personal treasure trove of Galleons? Who would not? Particularly if they went to school with them… as I recall, he graduated last year." She found the perfect moment to bring up a subject that might give her the information she needed. "The girls set up their own personal fan club for the boy… worshipped him as if he were God Incarnate. Ridiculous. But then, I believe you have your own Victor Krum here? Harry Potter?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Dumbledore's pet Golden Boy. Who wouldn't know who the bloody wanker is? He's only famous for a bloody _scar_ on his head…"

"Methinks I hear jealousy in thy words," Hermione replied sweetly, with a flutter of eyelashes. She turned to Nagini, "Don't listen to him," she told her, waving a hand in Draco's direction, "he's biased."

"Oh, and yours is as pure as the driven snow, Daisy-love?"

"Do shut up," she replied offhandedly, and he frowned at the rebuff. "Harry's not as bad as he says he is. Sure, he's found himself plenty of admirers, but I doubt he even realizes it. He's the foolish kind of boy who doesn't even notice what's right under his nose. Hates the spotlight. Doesn't know a _thing_ about women. Loves playing Quidditch. Hates Malfoy with the passion of a thousand fiery suns."

Nagini raised one perfectly arched eyebrow; "You know a lot about him. I take it you are one of those selfsame admirers of his?"

She blinked. "Me? And Harry? Oh no, no, not _ever_!" she exclaimed with a shake of her head, sending her curls flying again, "He's been my best friend since we were eleven… I couldn't ever think of him like _that_."

"So you're trying to explain to me that he is a… nice boy?"

"No other way to put it. Even Draco would agree with me on that one. Right?"

Draco frowned, "_Too_ nice." He replied, "It's just not natural. One of these days, Daisy you're going to find he keeps a stash of _Playwitch_ beneath his bed."

"No, those are hidden at the bottom of his trunk," she replied with a toss of her hand. Then she did a double-take and slapped herself on the forehead, "That was about the most stupid thing I could say in front of a Malfoy…" she moaned out loud.

He on the other hand, was shocked silent. Only a few moments later he recovered enough to say, "You mean you _know_ this?"

She shrugged guiltily, "So I've had my suspicions whether or not he flew that side of the Quidditch pitch," she replied, "There were a few moments of such profound relief before I started being disgusted at the girl on the cover." She grimaced, "I didn't even think you could _do_ that with a wand…"

Draco suppressed a grin. Nagini sighed impatiently, "So you're telling me that this Harry Potter of yours is a heterosexual, perverted-yet-nice, internal kind of boy?"

Hermione grimaced at Nagini's way of repeating her words before shrugging, "I… _suppose_…" she hedged.

Nagini shrugged, "And perhaps this might be an odd question, but how does this Harry Potter _look_ like? The flow of _Daily Prophet_ into Durmstrang ceased somewhat in the middle of my fifth year, and since coming here I have heard much of this boy, but I cannot separate him from any of the other boys in this school."

"No?" Hermione asked, rather surprised. "I would have thought his picture might have shown up before our fifth year… he _did_ win the Tournament in Fourth after all… but then Fudge certainly _was_ being unreasonable…" she mused out loud as she stared off into space, puzzling over it.

Nagini raised a disapproving eyebrow. _This_ was the company Draco Malfoy kept? He certainly didn't choose them for their looks obviously. Crabbe and Goyle both looked alike with their ridiculously befuddled expressions on their faces, Pansy Parkinson with that hardened look of a pug for a face, and this girl who could not keep her mind on a single topic for an entire minute.

Draco shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with Nagini watching the two of them. He didn't know who she was… and if her House were to say anything about her, she was Pureblood and probably from an old wizarding family. Then why didn't he know her, or had at least heard of her?

Hermione shrugged, "Oh well, I'll point him out tomorrow for you if you want," she cocked her head with a friendly smile on her face.

At the strained silence that followed Nagini spoke up, "You two were not friends an hour ago. Why now are you talking like old acquaintances?"

"Because we _are_ old acquaintances," Hermione replied wryly, "This boy decided he'd make my life a living hell from the first day we met."

"That wasn't very nice, Daisy."

"Neither were you." She retorted, crossing her arms with a "hmph" sound.

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "Is this how all Gryffindors and Slytherins squabble?" she asked, internally disapproving of how the old roaring rivalries had dribbled down to petty squabbles and stupid pranks.

Hermione shook her head with a wry grin, "No," she admitted, "Whenever Harry and Draco go up head to head the whole school trembles. You should see them on the Quidditch pitch."

Draco looked faintly surprised, "I didn't know you were that interested in Quidditch, don't see you in the stands much anymore."

She shrugged, "Been fascinated since I learned about it. But not like Harry and Ron, not like it should be every conversation's dominant topic." She raised a curious eyebrow, "But why were you looking for me in the stands?"

"You and Weasley are usually the ones that distract Potter the most." He shrugged, "Captain figured if one of the boys smacked a Bludger your way it'd leave me with no competition to go for the Snitch." He looked defensive when he saw her start frowning, "Hey, you haven't seen it happen yet, have you Daisy? I don't need anyone to kill someone in the crowds just because they want me to get the Snitch. I win on my own terms."

"Says the boy who grabs onto Harry's broomstick every time he gets the chance."

"Oh come now Daisy, be fair. That was all the way back in Third. Tournament was Fourth, Quidditch was a joke in Fifth and last year… well you know what happened last year."

She frowned, "It got canceled halfway," she said for Nagini's benefit, "That Slytherin… Penny died didn't she? Bludger to the head?"

Draco nodded, "Yeah. Bludgers are charmed not to kill the players you see… it doesn't say anything about what might happen to the crowds."

"That's why there've only been broken bones…!" Hermione realized thinking back to Harry's accident and what she'd gleaned off of _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"And I thought you were supposed to be the bright one. Even Potter figured that one out."

She glared at him. 

He ignored it.

Nagini stood up suddenly, her eyes unusually flustered, "There's someone at the door."

"Huh?" Hermione said a split-second before a sharp rapping began at the portrait hole with interjections by Sirius (or James) of "Hey, hey, watch the canvas!"

"Granger, Malfoy, Whetlyn! You get yourselves into bed now before I come in there! What an example you're setting!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared through the doorway of her room marveling at Nagini. In the corner of her eye however, she could see Nagini visibly relax. Odd. The girl quickly left the room with a muttered, "Good night," and disappeared into her room.

Draco got to his feet in such a liquid, languid way that it was all Hermione could do not to stare. It was moments like this that she was forced to look past the image of the ferret-faced bastard and see the intelligent and incredibly attractive boy that he was. And she hated it. It was like she was committing some sort of treason by liking the same boy she had so whole-heartedly hated for so long.

She flopped back on her bed against the large and _very_ comfortable cushions as if the feel of silk could make her mind wander to other, less Draco-shaped topics. Unfortunately he was still standing right there in front of her with that serious expression in his eyes in that way that made them look almost silver.

"Yes?" she asked him quizzically, wondering why he was still there.

He shook his head as if in disbelief, "You know, I probably should've paid attention to you a couple of years before," he said with that same look in his eyes, "Maybe then I might've understood something about you… Right now you're tying me in knots trying to figure you out."

She sat up with a small smile on her face, "Maybe. But then that would've made life boring, now wouldn't it?"

He shook his head, "Me? When you're always hanging around with Potter? No chance of that Daisy, no chance whatsoever." He disappeared through the door without even a goodnight. Not as if she'd expected one. Draco or no he was still a Slytherin. They weren't well known for their common courtesies… at least when dealing with Gryffindors anyway.

Nagini, safely enclosed in her own room behind closed doors leaned back against the hard, lacquered wood. This was going to be easier than she'd first thought it might be. After all, once the little mudblood showed her who Harry Potter was, there were any endless number of secret passages to escape through with the boy. She smiled… if the boy was as_ nice_ as Hermione had said, then it would be rather easy to 'make friends' with the boy before playing damsel in distress. She frowned. The only hitch was that he was in Gryffindor. But then, he was also seventeen. At seventeen, a boy's libido always won out in the long run.

She shook her head free of these thoughts and turned to those of her own freedom. For the moment, away from the Master, she had a freedom she had never previously possessed. And she was going to take full advantage of this little mission to explore this school that the Master had studied in, and where she herself had been born. Deep in the recesses of the very dungeons in this place, the basilisk had lain asleep for a decade or two, and there were powers there. Old magic, that of the serpent. Of her sire. Quietly, she slipped out of the portrait hole and with a mysterious smile towards Sirius and James's portrait, she disappeared down the corridor with barely a whisper of sound coming from her feet.

Draco in his own room was breathing heavily. He was suspicious of the new girl who could just trounce into the school and rise to power so very quickly. The Dark Lord was not without his spies, and Draco was wary of them. After all, his standing in the Dark Lord's good graces depended almost solely on his father… and his father certainly didn't have as much social stature as he'd had before. 

He gritted his teeth… damn that Potter. If he hadn't been such a meddler all the way back in Fifth, his father would still be well acquainted with the Ministry of Magic and Draco wouldn't _have_ to be walking the thin line he was now.

He remembered once wanting to be in the Dark Lord's circle, wanting it so much because it promised and tempted him with power. But he'd seen some of the things that the other Dark Eaters, the ones the Dark Lord were displeased with, had had to face. He didn't want to be a Death Eater… power was something that he couldn't attain with the Dark Lord. If there was one thing Draco knew, those in power wish to stay in power. And they would never allow anyone else to take even a scrap of it. That his father believed otherwise was the only thing that had kept him tied to the Dark Lord for so long. There had been many long and bitter arguments that had raged between the both of them. Narcissa Malfoy, as much as both son and husband loved her, was unable to convince either of them to see the other's way about the subject, so the Malfoy manor had been even less restful than previous years. He stared up at the blank whiteness of the ceiling that seemed to glow in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the thin curtains over the big bay window, and it served as a projector for his thoughts as he replayed the scenario that had taken place just before he'd left for school.

"The Dark Lord has risen and he has accepted us into the fold again… we must join him. We must follow him!"

Draco watched the older man with wary eyes, "What would you gain by being in the Dark Lord's little fan club? If the Dark Lord does defeat Dumbledore and the Ministry and their Order, there is only one who can rule… and you know he does not share power."

"What powerful sorcerer are you to say these things about someone more powerful than yourself? Only once have you seen the Dark Lord. Once. You can see the power the man radiates. I am a part of that power, I am part of what gives him that stability. He needs us, my son. He needs us to succeed and once he accomplishes everything, he will reward us."

"Father, you know as well as I do once something has outlived its usefulness the owner tosses it away and forgets about it. He'll do that. Use you and once he's finished wringing every bit of usefulness from you, he'll dispose of you. Look what happened to the Dark Mage!" Their voices had grown progressively louder and louder, the braver of the house elves cringing away, while the lesser ones had already vanished with a CRACK. The story of the Dark Mage was nearly legendary amongst the Death Eater families, and the elder Malfoy cringed before he could stop himself. "That won't happen." He said in a tone that seemed more as if to reassure himself than to assure his son of the truth.

"And what proof do you have?" Draco replied with a disgusted look on his chiseled features, "Wormtail's hand?"

Lucius struck him, struck him hard enough to make him stumble a step as he roared in the face of his son, "Don't act impudent to me!" his voice growing louder and louder though it hadn't previously seemed possible, "You stand here right now because of my work for the Dark Lord. He holds much power and everything that is mine is his. The Dark Lord wants you, Draco. And you are consecrated to be his!"

"Well what if I don't want to be?" he yelled back, rebellious of what his father wanted from him. "What if the Dark Lord loses again? He isn't above losing! And what do you think will happen to the Malfoy name if that happens after your monumental screw-up at the Ministry?!"

"And what would you do if you ran away from the Dark Lord's circle? Do you think that Potter boy and Dumbledore will welcome you with open arms and let you into the fold? Do you really believe the Dark Lord would stand for it? You're not above mortal death, you know."

"Are you threatening me?" Draco replied evenly, watching his father with eyes that could have been Lucius's own.

"I don't need to. The Dark Lord has already chosen you. You have already been branded. There is nothing you can do."

He shuddered, wrapping his blanket closer around him, banishing the thoughts. He had to be careful this year… this was the last year they'd be at Hogwarts, and where Harry bloody Potter would be most vulnerable. The Dark Lord had appeared all the way back in Fourth. He had built up enough power around himself to be able to attack. The fireworks were going to start this year… he was sure of it.

He was not going to be involved. He needed connections on both sides of this silent war, and establishing a 'friendship' with Hermione Granger—a mudblood and a widely-known supporter of Harry Potter and Dumbledore, would do just that. His plan was coolly calculated and thorough. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself. Damn teenaged libido.

Things had to work out this year. He'd see to it, and woe betide anyone who got in Draco Malfoy's way. He turned over in his bed, closing his eyes resolutely, attempting to go to sleep. There were, after all, classes tomorrow.

That was when he heard the scream coming from the room right beside his.

Hermione's room.

His heart nearly stopped.

~*~*~*~

**REVIEW ME!**

End! A chapter with not a lot perhaps, but it was needed. I mean, the Gryffindors don't like the Slytherins. But it's a known fact that Hermione is more open than let's say Ron (I'm recalling a certain 'fraternizing with the enemy' thing from _Goblet of Fire_ concerning Krum) and she is the perfect person to have the whole friendship thing going. So Draco's not the cruel, pompous bastard we all love, who cares? He's cool, and if he can be nice, that's a bonus! And since I have gone through the trouble of revising this fic so that it is a little better of a read, please review.


	5. Chapter 04

**Against All Odds**

**Chapter Four**

Koneko-chan says!

New chapter again, and I'm working as hard as I can, scouring my brain to put things in **all** my fics. Do you all have any idea how hard it is to write all these things? I think I bit off more than I can chew. And you with the hockeystar email, I've forgotten your name, sorry I haven't emailed you to tell about updating. I can't get into my email account just yet and I have to figure out why. Sorry.

Other than that, read along and let's see if I can make Draco up to be the pretentious bastard we all know and love.

~*~*~*~

"That is enough, Miss Granger, do be silent." The figure standing over her bed had covered her mouth as soon as she had begun to scream, and sounded rather impatient as Hermione shut her mouth instantly, cowering in her bed. He took his hand off her mouth slowly, as another hand reached over to flick on the switch to her bedside lamp, illuminating the room.

It was Snape.

"P-Professor!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath and slow her heart rate as it pounded in her chest.

The door to her room slammed open and both Draco and a recently returned from her night exploits Nagini burst into the room, one clad in boxers, the other in a dressing gown, wands held ready in their hands.

"What… what on Earth?" Nagini ejaculated, staring at the scene that met her eyes. Her eyes zeroed in on Snape and she narrowed her eyes in a disapproving fashion, though probably not because he had suddenly appeared in Hermione's bedroom. "Are you not a professor? Is it not school policy for you to knock?"

He glared at her, "Two points from Slytherin for you cheek, Miss Whetlyn." He told her silkily. Draco took the opportunity to slip on a shirt he'd snatched up from his open dresser in his room. "What were you doing in here then, Professor?" he asked in a more respectful tone once he had dressed completely.

Snape sighed, "Miss Granger was supposed to come with me tonight to speak with Professor Dumbledore about a specific task pertaining to her recent… accomplishment of becoming Head Girl. As I found the place quiet when I entered, I supposed that you might actually be following the rules for once and were asleep and tried to wake Miss Granger alone. I did not however, expect her to start screeching like some harpy." He added dryly, with an annoyed look on his sharp features as Hermione hid her reddening face.

"I'm… er… sorry Professor…" she managed to mumble as she waited for the blood to fade from her cheeks.

He nodded, before turning back to Draco and Nagini still standing at the doorway, "Now I expect you two to go back to bed. Once Miss Granger is finished dressing, she and I will be off to Dumbledore's office. Where I'm quite certain she will be questioned on how a Head Girl can completely forget about such an important meeting," he said in his coldest voice.

"And is there any particular reason that either Draco or I am not needed? Am I too not Head Girl?" Nagini asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"You were not part of Hogwarts initially, Miss Whetlyn, and this meeting pertains to incidents that have occurred over the past year, most of them having to do with happenings in Gryffindor due to our current…" his face twisted, "…celebrity. Most likely both you and Mr. Malfoy will be asked to be present at the meeting tomorrow afternoon." He swept out of Hermione's room, and through the portrait hole. "And I suggest you hurry, Miss Granger," he called back over his shoulder, "The longer you take, the harder it will be to avoid destroying this portrait!"

Hermione immediately leaped up out of bed, bouncing over in the direction of her dresser. "Can't believe I forgot…!" she muttered to herself, yanking out her cranberry-colored jumper and a pair of old stonewashed jeans. She turned to the two still at her doorway, "Thanks for coming to the rescue," she said with a small smile, "Sorry I woke you two up."

Nagini waved it off, "I can never go to sleep the first night in a new bed… I was already awake. I suggest you hurry. I have managed to make acquaintance with several other portraits in this school, none as nice to converse with as our Sirius and James." She disappeared out the door. Draco didn't move.

She watched him for a second, before making the 'turn around' gesture with her finger. He complied readily, closing the door and staring fixedly at the wood grain of the door as she began changing out of her pajamas. "Well, what is it?" she asked, as she changed.

"This meeting you're going to doesn't have a thing to do with you being chosen as Head Girl, does it? It doesn't have anything to do with Gryffindor. Just what are you up to, Daisy?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. And that would be rather too messy." She replied, zipping up the fly to her jeans. When he turned around, she gave him an apologetic shrug, "I can't tell you Draco. I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't trust you, and I'm sure you don't expect me to."

He shrugged, "No. No I guess not. But that doesn't mean once in a while I wish—" he shook his head, stopping himself instantly. "But then, I'm not going to tell you that," he said with that old drawling tone that Hermione remembered so well. "Because you wouldn't be able to do anything about it…" there was a flash of something sad, something faraway in the very deepest depths of his eyes, but it was gone before she could look again to be sure. He opened the door and walked out, "Have a good time walking there with Snape… you know how far away Dumbledore's office is from here."

She groaned, "You had to remind me so soon…?" Then she raced out of the portrait hole, just in case Snape did lose his temper and began firing bolts of whatever into the portraits canvas.

"I see you've finally decided to quit dawdling and come along, Miss Granger."

"I'm sorry… I just—" she shrugged as she struggled to match his long-legged pace, "Well, Draco was being nosy."

"Draco, now? Perhaps I have misheard all these years, but wasn't it customary for you and Potter and Weasley to refer to him as Malfoy? Or any other number of obscenities which I will not utter here?"

Hermione frowned, "He deserved it."

"Being called ridiculous names? Perhaps. And perhaps the four of you also belong back with the rest of the First years. With your lack of discipline, you would certainly blend in."

"As pleasant as always, I see." She muttered, frowning at him. He raised an eyebrow, "Contrary to what you believe, the fact that I saved your life last summer does not give you the right to talk back to me."

Hermione shook her head, "I didn't even think of it," she replied honestly, "Not that I'm not thankful to you because of it. But honestly, I don't think Draco knows what happened last summer."

Snape frowned as he continued with his long strides, "Lucius said nothing about having problems with his son… then again, it would not be unlike Lucius to do so. He has a streak of pride that is annoyingly found in all Malfoys. Makes gleaning information from talking with them virtually impossible."

Hermione was silent for a moment before saying softly, "Draco said something about suspecting You-Know-Who of trying to get Harry in the Tournament."

Snape literally stopped short. "Malfoy told you about the Tournament? And what the Death Eaters are already beginning to plan?"

Hermione nodded, "I thought it strange myself. But he never said anyone told him. He just suspected. And I guess his suspicious make sense… after all, with all the dangers in the Tournament itself, it would be easier to snatch him up like they did before…" her face whitened at the thought.

Snape began walking faster now, twice as fast as he had before and Hermione nearly had to run to keep up, "We must report this to the Headmaster." He said with a slight frown on his face, "Draco Malfoy was thought to be a sure loss to the Dark Lord's side. That he is making an attempt to help Potter is… odd to say the least. Dumbledore will know what to do."

"I hope so," Hermione replied softly, "I'm the one living nearest to him. If he were to suddenly show his true colors and try to finish what Lucius Malfoy started, the only one in hearing distance is Nagini Whetlyn."

"And I have my own suspicions of the girl," Snape finished for her with a nod, "Yes I know. If she truly was one of the daughters of the old wizarding families, I would have heard of her. She's a pureblood witch, if nothing else, the fact that she was sorted into Slytherin should prove it. But… as much as it pains me to say, I am quite baffled by that girl."

A small smile flitted over Hermione's features, "I never thought I would ever hear those words leave your mouth, Professor."

"Don't expect to hear them again," he replied with a grudging smile.

Smiles were rare amongst the wizarding folk nowadays, now that the threat of Voldemort was fully thrown in the air. It had been a blessing that Hermione had been allowed to stay with her parents in the Muggle world and had been able to bypass much of the tension sparking everywhere. Suspicions were high. If anything, Hermione had drawn a parallel to this Dark Lord paranoia with America's old 'McCarthyism'… anyone who was reputed to have anything to do with You-Know-Who was immediately shipped off to Azkaban, some without the benefit of a criminal trial.

"Dungbombs."

At the sound of the odd word coming from Snape's mouth, Hermione who hadn't been paying much attention immediately knew they were at Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle opened its eyes, snarling at them as if berating them for waking it from its nap, and leapt of their way.

The moment they passed through and up the stairs, they were met with a barrage of confusing bits and pieces of different conversations. The both of them stepped into the room itself to see that most of the clutter that made up Dumbledore's office had been pushed haphazardly to the side, and a large table had been set up in the center of the office. Fawkes, looking a little annoyed now that his perch had been charmed to float up above the table, bobbed his head irritably at them as he began anew his everlasting preening.

Around the table sat a gathering of teachers, other adults, and students, both old and present. And there was a new person sitting around that table. The new professor. Professor Sally, Sa Lai, whatever. Even Snape was surprised to see her. Immediately he turned to Professor Dumbledore, "Headmaster, surely—"

Dumbledore cut him off by raising a hand in a benign gesture, "Our newest professor is trustworthy enough," he said, his voice unbearable dry and tired, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. For the first time since she'd met him, Hermione realized he was an old, old man. The way he was usually, he seemed ages younger, perhaps even so than McGonagall.

Snape looked Dumbledore closely for a moment before he nodded, taking his seat. Hermione slid into her own between Harry and McGonagall. She felt small and rather insignificant in this large gathering. Most of them were adults, and she and Harry and Ron seemed so young compared to all these adults with their grim determination.

For the first time, she realized just why they had wanted only people of age to join the Order of the Phoenix. The risks were too high. That Harry Potter was needed was the only reason she had become involved, and because Harry Potter needed both her and Ron to succeed.

The meeting dragged on long, longer than Hermione had expected, and she was beginning to nod off when Dumbledore noticed, and with a small, benevolent smile, announced loudly, "I do believe it is time to be going on to bed… the majority of us do have classes to attend tomorrow." His eyes twinkled as they settled on Ron Weasley who was already fast asleep with his head on the table and a small drop of drool already pooling in one corner of his mouth. Mrs. Weasley, on the other end of the table, was not amused.

Harry, seeing the murderous look on the boy's mother's face, hastily nudged his friend awake. "We're going," he hissed into the boy's ear as Ron grunted and sat up, "I'm siding with Harry on this one."

Harry sighed, repeating himself. "We're going, Ron."

"Oh." He got to his feet and sidled out through the doorway, too tired to start feeling embarrassed just yet. "Bye all, then."

Harry and Hermione shared a look that said a thousand words between them before Harry shrugged and said, "So… has Malfoy tried to pull anything yet?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. Actually… I think he tried to warn me."

Harry frowned, "Warn you?" he repeated, concern darkening his features, "Malfoy? Why would he do that?"

She shrugged, "I don't know… but there's going to be another Tournament at this school, did you know that?"

Harry shook his head, "Malfoy told you that?"

"Yes. He said you can't enter… that, that You-Know-Who's going to try and kill you again this year."

"I'm not planning on entering that Tournament, Hermione. I don't want to go through all that again."

"You got hooked into it in Fourth, and they might just pull it again. After all, you're bound by the rules like the rest of them if that Goblet spits your name out." She was wringing her hands, an old habit that she'd thought she'd gotten rid of, one of the first signs that she was anxious.

"Dumbledore's not going to let it happen this time. Not after what happened to…" he trailed off, "Well, what happened back in Fourth," he said, his voice thick. He shook his head, trying to clear the air of the subject, "So is that all Malfoy's doing? Telling you things that might not even be true?"

Hermione shrugged, "He was being nicer to me than he's been for a very long time."

"Don't trust him, Hermione. You know you can't. Look what his father—"

"I remember what Lucius Malfoy did," she cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "And I know what Draco's capable of. And I'm going to be careful." She walked off then, headed off towards her own room so quickly that she missed the incredulous look on Harry's face.

"Draco?" he asked out loud to no one in particular. However, in an enchanted castle, things tended to talk back.

"That's what she said, me lad!" replied a friendly old lady sitting in a portrait near him with a watering can floating above her head.

"Thanks. Rhetorical question really." Harry told her before heading off towards Gryffindor Tower and his own warm bed. But still… since when had Hermione ever referred to Malfoy as Draco?

Hermione herself was fighting to keep her eyes open when she dragged herself in front of the portrait. It was empty. She groaned out loud as she stared at it. Apparently Sirius and had gone gallivanting somewhere. There was only one thing left to do. She smacked the portrait. "HEY!" she yelled as loudly as she could, startling awake several of the people inside the surrounding portraits. "LET ME IN!"

One of the portraits, right behind her immediately asked her who she was looking for if only to shut her up. When she told him who was supposed to be in that portrait, he immediately sent one of his sheep off to look for the two miscreants. For the first time, he seemed to smile. "Those two are something," he told her, "Never were ones to take on responsibilities them. Don't know why they're guarding the Head common room."

However, the sheep returned that moment and baahed something in the shepherd's ear. He then looked up apologetically at Hermione, "Sorry lass, but the boys can't be found. Running somewhere up on the upper corridors I'm afraid."

She was about to slump down in despair and throw cautions to the wind and fall asleep right there in the doorway when the portrait flew open, barely missing the top of her head.

"Daisy! God, hurry up and get in here!"

It was Draco, obviously. His hair was rumpled and once again, he was not wearing a shirt, but there he was. She took no time in scrambling up through the portrait hole and into the common room. "Thanks," she managed as she stumbled towards the general vicinity of her room.

"What took you so long anyway?" Draco asked, hiding a yawn behind a raised hand, "It's nearly four in the morning."

"Damned meeting. Stupid people not being in the portrait. Stupid room being so bloody far away…" she muttered under her breath as she stumbled into the wall and began cursing it whole-heartedly. Draco watched her with a raised eyebrow, "I'm… sure." Shaking his head, he took her by the arm and gently steered her into her bedroom. "Gods when you're sleep-deprived, you act as sluggish as if you had drunk several dozen bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey."

"Beastly stuff," she mumbled before flopping down into her bed. "Mmm…" she murmured as she crawled in never bothering to change. "Goo'night." She muttered before turning over and falling straight to sleep.

Draco stood there in the doorway with an incredulous look on his face, "You are an odd girl, Hermione Granger." He said to himself as he turned off the lights to her room with a flick of his wand, "I think all those years of making fun of you were put to waste… never had much of an effect on you, did I?"

"Hrmph," was the only sound that came from the lump in the bed as he closed to door behind him. He wasn't quite sure whether she was still awake or still asleep. Shaking his head, he slowly walked back to his room. So absorbed was he in all his thoughts that he never noticed Nagini's door whisper shut.

The next morning dawned all too soon for the trio. Nagini, not entirely used to sleeping all that much, fared the best of the three of them. She woke Draco first, finding out that he had a normal morning routine of throwing his pillow into the face of whoever attempted to wake him. She decided right then and there that the next time she might have to wake him up, it would be by throwing some spell or other at him.

She hesitated at Hermione's door, not quite sure what to do. Then she shrugged it off. After all, mudblood though she may be, Hermione Granger was a friend of Harry Potter, she had admitted as much to her last night. It was best to keep on the good side of the boy's friends… until he was dealt with of course. And after knocking softly and receiving no answer, she opened it and stepped in.

"Hermione?" she called warily, shaking the brunette's shoulder gingerly, ready if another pillow should fly her way. After all, this might be some strange human custom that she had no knowledge of. Stranger things had happened over the course of history. Look at Dumbledore.

No flying projectile made its way into her face, but the girl groaned, mumbled something underneath her breath before turning over with a sleepy, "Five more minutes, Mum."

Nagini drew herself up, "I am certainly _not_ your mother," she said almost indignantly, "Now if your do not get yourself up, you will be late."

At the word 'late', Hermione's eyes popped open and she sat up looking around her frantically. When she caught sight of Nagini's face and her one raised eyebrow she let out a surprised squeak. After all, seeing a Slytherin, any Slytherin was an unusual sight first thing in the morning for a Gryffindor. "Late? What do you mean late? I'm late?"

"You will be," Nagini replied, with a rather wry smile. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to hurry."

Hermione nodded vigorously, "Yes, yes it would…" she agreed jumping out of bed and shivering at the cold temperatures of early September. Nagini retreated out of Hermione's room as she became a whirlwind of activity, snatching up the clothes that had been dubbed the school uniform, although really, the only thing a student really had to wear were their black Hogwarts robes. Unfortunately, the teachers frowned upon anything else the students wore so gradually, it was an unsaid rule that school clothes must be such and that was that.

Just as she was finished straightening her school tie, a loud smash rang throughout their shared common rooms, accompanied by the loud ringing of glass hitting the floor. Instantly she ran out of her room to see what was the matter, wand in hand in case, for some impossible reason, the Death Eaters were attacking in broad daylight. Seeing Nagini rush out of her room in similar haste and her school tie still undone and her feet bare, the two of them realized at the same time that the noise had come from Draco's room.

The noise that had faded away was replaced by Draco's loud swearing. When the two of them appeared in the doorway, they saw that Draco's large glass window had been shattered and a large owl was perched on one of Draco's bedposts, preening its feathers.

"Echidna! Why can't you just tap the window politely with your beak and wait till I open like _other_ owls?!" Draco asked exasperatedly, and both Hermione and Nagini couldn't help by eye him with interest. For he had erupted from the bathroom his white Oxford shirt only half buttoned, the belt in his gray slacks certainly not belted in place, and his hair was still slightly rumpled, and several locks of it were falling into his eyes. Hermione barely held back the instinct to lick her lips at the sight of him.

She stared then at the owl who was giving what could only be put as a disapproving look on the owl's face. Echidna hooted once, holding out her left leg imperiously showing off the piece of parchment tied to it. Hermione shook her head, "You named your owl _Echidna_?" she asked incredulously as she stared around at the mess.

"I thought it fitting to name her after a monster, wouldn't you think?" Draco asked still glowering at the owl, which hooted once at him, ruffling her feathers innocently.

"Well, you know the pet _does_ reflect the owner…" Hermione said with a sly grin on her face.

"And I suppose you're a red-haired, bowlegged, flat-faced beauty, aren't you?" Draco retorted, running a hand through his hair, to keep the strands out of his eyes. He approached the owl now, untying the parchment from Echidna's leg. "And I don't suppose you thought it wise to wait till the time when the _other_ owls deliver things?" he asked the owl rhetorically.

Nagini could understand the owl's reply. A snippy _no_.

Draco pocketed the parchment, before looking up at the two girls still at his door. "False alarm, ladies." He said with a small smile, "Not that I don't _mind_ you two coming to my rescue and all, but I think we're all going to be a mite late if we're still here by the time breakfast is done being dolled out. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to make it to breakfast."

Hermione grimaced immediately, "You're right!" and dashed out of the doorway back to her room.

Nagini shook her head, "Humans…" she muttered to herself disappearing out the door and back into her own room. All of these sudden things made her more and more nervous. Hermione's screaming. Draco's window shattering. Both sounds brought her running because it brought with them so many more memories of the past. Might not perhaps the Master be disappointed that she was biding her time in killing the boy and send others? But no, he would understand the importance of subtlety… after all, why else would he send _her_?

Quickly finishing her dressing routine and picking up the large satchel that held her rolls of parchment, her quills and inkbottle, she snatched her large textbooks from the top of the dresser and with them in hand, she exited her room. Draco too, had finished getting his things, and appeared in the common room only a few moments after she, but there was grave countenance on that pretty face of his. She watched him closely. Most likely it had much to do with that bit of parchment he'd received this morning and less to do with the upcoming classes.

From Hermione's room however, was the loud sound of her irritated swearing, mixed in between spell words and small flashes of light they could see through the doorway. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, shrugged, and walked in.

The place was about as idyllic as a tornado. Draco stared in awe at Hermione as she liberally stuffed everything she could into her school bag. He also took note of the clothes she was wearing. After all, as mentioned before, there was an unwritten rule about what a student _should_ wear. Hermione Granger certainly didn't appear to be wearing all the articles of clothing that had been prescribed by years of studying under the same teachers as he.

She looked up at him, and the frustration was evident on her face. "I can't find _anything_!" she wailed, "And I'm going to be late!"

He was still staring at her clothes when she looked down, then back up at him with a small smile, "I couldn't… find my… other clothes…?" she said by way of excuse.

"Funny thing, as I thought you were wearing them yesterday."

Smiling, she held her finger up to her mouth. "Shh!"

Then she turned and pointed to her bookshelf, "Now are your books as ornery as mine? How do suppose I can get these things out?" Draco looked behind her… and blinked. It was as if the bookshelf had swallowed up her room, it was so large. And completely filled, nearly to bursting point. There was even a stack of other books that hadn't been able to fit scattered all around it. He stared at it for a few more seconds before saying, "Perhaps a crowbar?"

She looked horrified at the idea of damaging her precious books' covers. "NO!"

"That was an attempt at humor, Granger."

She shrugged not looking the least embarrassed. "Any other ideas?"

"_Accio_!" Draco replied, pointing his wand to a book at random, which flew neatly into his hand, and he handed it to her. "I take it you have…" he looked down, before his brow wrinkled in confusion, "_'Narcissus in Chains'_ first?" he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, "Daisy, what is this?" she grabbed it out of his hand and placed it hurriedly on the floor. "Nothing," she replied hastily, grasping her wand in the other hand, "_Accio! Accio, Accio, Accio!_" with seeming reluctance, the book flew at her, and stopping them neatly with a quick Freezing charm, she picked them up out of the air and stuffed them into her bag. "I'm done."

"Daisy… are you _sure_ you want to go out in that?" he asked, almost hesitantly as she made her way to the door. She stopped midway and stared at him oddly. "In what?"

"Well…" Draco sighed and pushed her in front of the mirror. "Tell me you are not trying to imitate Pansy as Head Tart of Hogwarts," he pleaded, "I thought I was free of that business last year."

Hermione cocked her head and looked over her reflection. "What do you think?" she asked the mirror. And of course, it answered back.

"Like the boots. The lack of those scratchy old sweater vests is refreshing. Perhaps you might loosen your school tie just enough to undo those two top buttons. But off with the earrings… you know McGonagall."

She shrugged, "Right. Hoop earrings, bad. Got it." she immediately took them off and after fixing her tie and her blouse, she flung the black school robes back on over her shoulders, picked up her large school bag, and rushed out into the common room.

Draco glared at the mirror, "You're not helping."

"No rule that says our girls can't go out looking pretty now is there? I must say I _do_ hate how the girls are dressed nowadays. Makes my job so much more fun when they start playing with their clothes."

"_Draco_! If you're not coming, we're leaving you!" Hermione bellowed from the common room.

He loped after her on long legs with the mirror chuckling as he left. "After all," it added, "You liked it well enough yourself."

~*~*~*~

Conversation stopped as soon as the three of the entered the Great Hall together. Never, in all the history of Hogwarts had any Slytherin and Gryffindor ever walked into the Hall together. It simply hadn't been done. Especially now that the threat of Voldemort loomed in so close.

Hermione looked around her curiously at the blatantly amazed looks on her friends' faces. Then with almost a self-conscious shrug she waved at both Draco and Nagini and headed off to the Gryffindor table, taking her spot right beside Harry and right across from Ron.

Conversation began again, this time with the buzz of gossip.

Harry still watched his friend silently, but with a look of surprise written on his features. Ron was above such passive displays of his amazement and took it upon himself to start yelling, louder and louder with each word. "Just _what_ were you _doing_?"

She calmly buttered her toast, and took a large bite out of it before addressing her purple-faced friend. "I walked to the Great Hall with the two people I'm sharing a common room with."

Neville tried to say something, but only managed the two syllables, "Hermi—" before Ron burst in again.

"He's a _Slytherin_! Or have you forgotten that?!"

She watched her friend grow increasingly purple-faced in his rage and pointed out that he might want to breathe in between his rants otherwise it would conclude in a horribly embarrassing swoon right over the marmalade. It didn't make Ron any calmer, but at least he took her advice and swallowed a gulp of air. Purple and orange-red did not look good together after all.

Ron glared at her, "You know what I mean! Hermione, you're fraternizing with the enemy! _Again_!"

She frowned at him now, "Ron, you know how much I hate it when you say that…" she began slowly, dangerously.

Harry hurriedly rushed in to step between the two of them, attempting to stop the impending confrontation. "Come on Ron, Hermione's just trying to keep from getting murdered in her bed tonight by her next-door-neighbor. Calm down a little."

"But, but it's _Malfoy_!" Ron protested, doubly loud since there was no one else backing him up, "He's a… he's a _Death Eater_!"

His words had a… well a _magical_ effect on the crowd of students. The school had already been tense before, very tense beneath its outwardly happy exterior. Now, at the mention of the dreaded words, it exploded.

Chaos… that was the only word that might explain what happened right then and there.

The teachers as one rushed down from the Head Table, and Dumbledore himself had to use all the power in his voice for them all to hear him over the tumult.

Hermione stood up on the bench, her voice loud and commanding, ringing with tones, the Head Girl badge flashing on her chest where she'd pinned it. She yelled out orders for the students, and miraculously, some of them obeyed.

From her vantage point, she could see Draco fighting his way over to the Gryffindor table, and the look on his face made her shiver. He was _furious_.

"What does that boy know of the Death Eaters?" hissed Nagini, who had managed to slip through the crowd towards Hermione. "What does he know of the Dark Lord?"

Hermione glanced down, "Don't listen to him. He's biased. Doesn't like Draco."

Nagini glared at him as the crowd continued to quiet down after the pandemonium, "Foolish boy."

The two boys next to her, latching themselves onto Ron in order to forcibly keep him from leaping at Draco were struggling to keep the redhead at bay. Draco himself was furious, but he made no move to physically attack the other boy so they let him alone. The sandy-haired one appeared to be trying to cast a shacking spell on Ron, but failing miserably as he needed a free hand (not to mention a wand) in order to cast such a spell. She did it for him, chaining him quite neatly to the Gryffindor table.

"Now be silent." She told him with a vicious look in her eyes that made him immediately quiet down. Those green eyes, framed by the darkness of her hair were striking. And she used them for all of their effect.

The other boy straightened his glasses ruefully, as they'd been knocked askew by Ron's flailing limbs. "Thanks for that," he said cautiously, but with an attempt at sounding friendly. She raised her eyebrows, this was one boy was trying to accept a Slytherin as an equal to Hermione Granger in intellect at the least. How admirable.

Hermione got down from her spot on the bench the moment order was beginning to be restored in the place. McGonagall had come over and begun yelling at Ron for starting the uproar and Draco was standing back, a mixture of smugness and fury still on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

She then noticed that she'd stepped on something and she gasped at the thought that it might be one of her precious pieces of homework. Quickly picking it up, and smoothing out the wrinkles and shaking off the dust she'd made on it with the sole of her boot, she read it.

It wasn't hers.

In fact, it wasn't even Harry's, or Ron's, Seamus's, or Nagini's.

It was Draco Malfoy's.

Quickly throwing a glance towards the blond boy, she reassured herself that he was still absorbed in the scene happening between Ron and Professor McGonagall and certainly wasn't looking in her direction. She looked back down at the neatly scripted writing.

It was from Lucius Malfoy.

A shiver ran right up her spine at the sight of the man's signature at the bottom of the parchment, and she had to force her shaking hands not to tear that piece of parchment that had been held by the hated man's own hands into little pieces. It went as following:

_My son,_

_We are beginning, at last to conceive another plan to enter that school of yours in order to find the Potter boy. As of yet, the Dark Lord has yet to find out about these plans, but the others are growing restless under his control. They clamor for blood, my son, and I am determined, as the Dark Lord's right hand man, to give it to them. They want the power that being a Death Eater has brought them in the past. Once we eliminate the Potter boy, there will be fear. We _will_ be feared. Once Potter is dealt with, we will have destroyed the wizarding world's hope and they will crumble before us. The Dark Lord will reward us all greatly for the things we will do in his name. We will win his war for him. He will give us the power._

_It is not too late for you to return to me, my son. There is ample time for you to reconsider your actions in returning to that school at the present time… now that a war is brewing. I have heard that you have been made Head Boy, and I am proud of you for that. Apparently you can best that Granger girl after all._

_While on the topic of that girl, you will not attempt to make any sign of friendship towards her. She knows too much. Once our plans have been finalized, she will be one of the first to die alongside Potter. Anything you know might slip. She is a clever girl… too clever in fact. She might manage to figure out things on her own from bits and pieces of information you might slip to her._

_I am waiting for an answer from you boy._

_Your father, _

_Lucius Malfoy III_

She finished it slowly, with a hard lump in the back of her throat. She felt sick at the thought of that dreadful man. This was the letter he'd received this morning, she was sure of it. The moment she looked up however, she realized that Draco was staring right at her, looking her square in the eyes. He knew. More importantly, he'd slipped it under her foot on purpose. He'd _wanted_ her to know.

Nodding at her once, he disappeared back through the crowds towards the Slytherin table. Quickly, she folded it up and pocketed it.

She noticed the sharp look Nagini was giving her, and shrugged, "Spare piece of parchment."

"It must surely have been a very interestingly designed piece of parchment because you were staring at it so animatedly for over a minute." Nagini replied coolly, not fooled for a second.

Hermione blushed, "I am that transparent, aren't I?"

"Have these tactics worked for you in the past?"

Hermione nodded. "Granted," she admitted with a toss of her head towards Ron who was still wrestling with the shackles binding him to the table, while McGonagall continued to rant into his ear. "Considering the company I keep, it would have been amazing if I couldn't have." She rolled her eyes. "They're all just…" she trailed off unable to think of a word.

"Men." Nagini easily supplied for her.

The raven-haired boy looked up, "We're not _all_ that bad, Hermione." He said with a small smile, indicating Ron. "After all, you know how Ron is… doesn't take kindly to surprises. Thinks of you like he thinks of Ginny… he's got the big brother syndrome. Can't stand the idea of you with anyone possessing a Y chromosome." 

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Funny you should mention that when _I'm_ the older… by two months in fact."

He held up his hands in a deferential manner, "I never said I agree with him Hermione, I just stated the facts."

Nagini eyed him closely. In a faint, faint way he much resembled the Master, back in days long past. She had been old enough to remember these things. The Master had once been rather like this boy. Vibrant, and looked clever enough, and that dark hair…!

Hermione snapped her fingers. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She gestured in Nagini's direction, "Nagini wanted to know how you looked like Harry. Can you believe it? She's never seen even your picture before."

Harry's face burst into flame, "Oh, come off it…" he said, swatting at his friend, who danced lightly out of the way.

Nagini's expression underwent a vast change, "Really?" she drawled, not unlike Draco's trademark way of speech.

Harry nodded, still blushing. "Yeah…" he muttered, looking down at his sneakers that peeked out from beneath his robes.

Nagini reached out, catching hold of his chin and lifting his face to hers, since they were of the same height, and his hair had fallen into his face, hiding his features. The conversation around them stopped as Nagini examined his face closely. Hermione could see the murderous expressions on several specimens of the female population, but most of all, she saw the confused expression on Harry's face and couldn't manage to hide a small laugh at the sight. After all, not many boys at their age could manage to make their features so goddamned adorable when need be. And the part that made it seem even more irresistible was the fact that he was completely unaware of the effect he had on the women around him who were enamored of the show.

Nagini let him go eventually, and summoned up a smile, "You shouldn't be so embarrassed… how else was I going to be able to see how you looked?"

Harry shrugged, blushing again. "You could have… asked?"

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "And would you have let me?" she asked, crossing her long, marble-white arms across her chest.

Hermione nudged him, "Probably not." he admitted with a small smile.

Nagini nodded, "I prove my point." She summoned up another smile towards Hermione, "Thank you, I'll leave you to your breakfast now." She drifted off towards the Slytherin table.

Harry looked towards Hermione, his eyes faintly glazed, "She was… pretty…" he said slowly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, "What is with you and foreign girls?" she asked, shaking her head at him. "Some obsession with black hair, perhaps?" She could just _see_ the ears perking up around them as the girls attempted to concentrate fixedly on their now-cold oatmeal. She realized right away there was going to be a new pseudo-Goth trend hitting the hallways of Hogwarts in the near future.

The moment breakfast was through however; she caught up to both Draco and Nagini in the hallways as they headed for the mandatory meeting they had with select members of the staff that did not have classes at that time. She caught hold of Draco's sleeve and dragged him off to a discreet corner while they waited in front of the staff room for a teacher. She held up the piece of parchment. "What is this?" she asked him, shaking it in his face.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, shifty-eyed as he watched Nagini out of the corner of his eyes and down the hall in case anyone else was coming.

Hermione shook her head, borrowing a leaf from Nagini's book, taking his chin firmly by the hand and forcing him to look down into her face, since he was a about two inches taller than her. "Now, now Malfoy," she told him, her lip quirking upwards, in such a way that had, over the summer, made hordes of males follow her around like puppy dogs. He swallowed nervously as his eyes were pulled to hers and unable to look away. "Out with it."

He turned away, relieving his face of her light grip, "I don't know… I just thought… well… I heard that something had happened last year… something that involved you in it… so I guess… that you should know that you're in trouble if they come."

Hermione's expression went cold, "What do you know?" she asked him flatly, any laughter dancing in her eyes immediately. "Who told you?"

His expression became guarded, "I only overheard bits and pieces… that they had planned an attack on Potter and you had and Snape had something to do with stopping them…"

She relaxed only slightly, "Is that it?"

He shook his head, but he looked back at her, "There's more to it than that… but I think I have a feeling you're not going to come right out and say it."

She frowned up at him, "You thought right… I'm not telling anyone. _Ever_." She looked away from him, her show of bravado for the moment broken, "Maybe you should go and write a letter to Daddy," she added turning away from him, "Maybe _he'll_ tell you what he did." She strode away from him without looking back, the letter still clenched in her fist held stiffly at her side.

He stared after her, realizing he'd touched a nerve. What had his father done?

He grew cold at the thought of it… he knew any number of cruelties that his father could do, especially to a girl like Hermione. He frowned. But his father had been lying low for the past several years because of her and her three friends… the only uprisings of Death Eaters his father had been involved in had been the "safe" ones where there were no chances of his getting caught. There was no way he would have been anywhere near Muggle London. Unless Hermione had somehow been involved in that failure of an attempt to storm the castle the previous summer, when it had been nearly empty…

But that was impossible… They had been pushed back by Dumbledore's Order or whatever fool name that organization had been called. There was no way that a student, even one as bright as Hermione Granger, could have been allowed to be anywhere near those plans those precious plans the Order was drawing up.

"Mr. Malfoy… perhaps you might care you join us?" 

Professor McGonagall's dry voice brought him clear out of his thoughts as he nearly jumped when she appeared behind him.

"I suppose I have to, don't I?" He recovered quickly, replacing his frown with his old drawling smile that curled up insolently at her.

Her lips tightened even more as she swept past him towards where Hermione and Nagini were standing silently. Draco breathed in a deep sigh as she passed him. McGonagall didn't trust him. Then again, he didn't blame her. She'd never believe it was his own intelligence that had made him Head Boy, not his father's money. It was not as if Dumbledore accepted bribes from people like Lucius Malfoy after all.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Immediately he strode forwards entering the warm, candlelit room with long-legged strides, closing the door after him.

An hour later, they left that incredibly dull meeting with the staff scant minutes before classes were over and the other students were streaming into the corridors. _Like sheep_, Draco thought, his mood several levels worse than it had been before he'd stepped into that cursed room. He'd been lectured for an entire hour about things he hadn't done and what he had to do and what he had to show other people and… _God_! He was certain even Professor Binns might have fallen asleep at some point.

"Horrible waste of time, that." he muttered. Hermione, her temper no better than his nodded grumpily, "To think I missed Charms to sit through _that_." she grumbled, digging through her bag for a quill, but instead came up with a blue ballpoint pen.

Nagini was silent, but the look on her face bore testimony to what she thought about all that ridiculousness the three of them had been subjected to. She was also the first to notice Pansy Parkinson come running, her hair streaming long and loose behind her. Pansy shook her head. She pitied the girl's hair… even with wizarding hair care products, it couldn't be a good thing to both curl and dye your hair like that. It was simply unhealthy. Not to mention it was not very attractive on Pansy.

She grabbed hold of Draco's arm, "Draco-baby?" she asked, with one of her large, painted-on sultry smiles that showed way too many teeth. "Can I talk to you?"

He eyed her warily. It was beyond obvious what she was talking about. Over the years, Hogwarts had become something akin to a secret whorehouse. Especially in their year, there were girls that would do _anyone_. Pansy Parkinson, obviously, was one of them, hailing from Slytherin house. Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff. The Patil twins from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Draco had found his way into their beds at one time or another over the previous years, but they were only good for a quick lay. There was no _challenge_ with them. They just lay there and spread their legs for him with a waiting smile. No fire, not one of them. They weren't the kind of woman one imagined when alone in their own beds with no one for company.

"I—" he paused. Why not? Pansy was always hoping for him to shower her with gifts, which was what made her so incredibly easy to manipulate. And, he thought ruefully to himself, she might be good enough to dispell whatever thoughts he might be thinking of over Hermione Granger with her perfect hair, perfect breasts, perfect legs… "Now?" he asked finally and her eyes lit up.

"Of course now," she purred, running her hands up his arm, "It's _re-all-y_ important." She told him, drawing out the middle word as long as she could.

If Draco had had a hat, he would have tipped it to Hermione and Nagini who had both immediately caught onto Pansy's game and had stopped walking. "I'll be seeing you two then," he told them before following Pansy off towards the dungeons. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's face scrunch up in a look of absolute disgust.

Pansy led him to the room so well known to most of the student body. The Room of Necessity or whatever it was called. It was the one place so well shared by all four houses in the school because it was used so often nowadays for the girls to "do their business". Amazingly, none of the teachers had heard of it yet. Or quite possibly, some of the rumors flying might be true and men like Snape were also offered compensations of keeping the secret.

They stopped just before walking in and Pansy turned to him with another sultry smile, "Well…?" she asked him teasingly, "What's your wish today?"

He was silent for a moment, his mind unable to think of anything other than the sudden image of Hermione that had appeared in his mind. "I'd like a naughty school girl," he said finally, with a sly smile in Pansy's direction, "I'm taking it easy on you aren't I? Shouldn't be too hard to please me." his hand running up her side before moving to grasp one of her incredibly large breasts as he pushed her back against the door, "After all…" he growled, "You're already in costume."

"Oh!" 

At the sudden, startled sound, they leaped apart staring at the direction from which the sound had come from. Something rolled towards them down the corridor clattering to a stop against Draco's shoe. Looking down, he realized it was a ballpoint pen.

And the owner of that ballpoint pen was none other than Hermione Granger with only a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she fumbled with her large schoolbag as she rushed down the hall after her pen. "I'm so sorry you two," she said as she bent down to snatch it back up, Draco catching a glimpse of her cleavage through the unbuttoned collar of her blouse for only a moment. "I was going to go back to our common room to get something and then some silly fourth year ran into me—"

"Quit with the excuses, Mudblood!" snapped Pansy, smoothing down the front of her blouse with an indignant blush flooding her cheeks, "You followed us!"

Hermione summoned up her best condescending look. "Why on Earth would I want to follow you and see you lift up your skirts and spread for him? I was going back to my room!" she jerked up irritably, taking up her pen and straightening with a huff, "I don't need to know what the two of you do during your personal time. Have fun." She stormed off in the direction of the corridor intersecting the one they were in with a furious silence.

Draco stepped away from Pansy then, and she turned her burning gaze on him, "What are you doing?" she snapped.

He shook his head, "Lost interest, Parkinson. Maybe some other time."

She grasped his arm, "What are you talking about?" she demanded, "You know what we came here for! Just because that Mudblood interrupted—"

"_Listen_, Parkinson." He told her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders, "That was _Hermione Granger_. That means that she's probably gone off running for a professor the very moment we let her get away. I don't want to be caught in such a compromising position when they come storming. Do you?"

The look on her face was murderous as they made their way to the crowded corridors again, probably thinking of all the ways to disembowel a certain Hermione Granger.

Draco himself was furious as well. No matter what Daisy might say for her defense and no matter how good she sounded, she had still followed them. She _had_ to have! What right had she to barge in on his decisions and warp them for him? He wasn't her precious Ron or Harry or—or any other one of her pet Gryffindor boys. His hands were nearly shaking with his repressed rage as his eyes blazing in all their ice blue fury as he swept through the grand hallways, leaving Pansy far behind in no time.

He saw her then, talking animatedly with Seamus Finnigan and looking rather as if she'd run a marathon. She was holding up her quill triumphantly and gesturing to it as she continued to talk as the two of them walked down the hallway. She looked as if to be still in the middle of catching her breath. Seamus didn't seem to mind at all to see her chest heaving as she took in her deep breaths.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he was about to step forward when Pansy's inhumanly high shriek rang out from behind him, ricocheting off the high vaulted ceiling.

"GRANGER!"

Hermione stopped talking mid-word as she froze and turned to face the speaker. She forced a bored expression on her face, though from this distance, he could see her hand tighten around the strap of her bag. "Yes, Parkinson?" she asked, not even deigning to bother with the other girl's first name as she stormed up to her, "You wanted something?"

Pansy seemed unable to speak for a few moments, her face white with anger. For that one moment, Hermione saw all the makeup and the mask fall away from the girl's painted face to glimpse at the real person beneath all that, breaking through that hard-faced exterior in her fury. "You—you _bitch_!"

She couldn't tell what happened next—all she knew was that one moment she was just standing there, and the next she was on her back with Pansy's long manicured nails clawing deep gouges into her flesh as she spat obscenities down at her face. Then she felt the wind knocked out of her as Pansy broke off clawing her and began smashing her fist into Hermione's diaphragm. It took a few more moments before she started to really fight back, her books flying everywhere as she grasped Pany's upper arms, and throwing her off her onto the floor beside her, quickly evacuated by a wide-eyed first year. She didn't bother with scratching or pulling her hair, which was what Pansy was doing… She balled her hand into a fist hitting her full in the face. She felt the crunching of bone or cartilage, she wasn't quite sure which in the midst of the adrenaline rush, but she did hear Pansy's cry of pain, and she did feel the sudden spray of blood from her nose.

That was what brought her back to her senses. That and the fact that Seamus had grabbed hold of her arms and wrenched her back, away from Pansy with more force than she had ever thought to credit the Irish native with. Ginny had appeared from somewhere in the midst of the tumultuous crowd and crouched down beside her older friend.

Blaise Zabini had forced her way through the crowd as well to kneel down beside Pansy, holding up a handkerchief to Pansy's nose and trying to help her stand up. The two redheads immediately called a truce between each other as they attempted to help their respective friends stand up. The professors began to flood out into the corridor now, forcing their way through the curious faces of the people in the crowds. McGonagall reached them first, her face pinched and white with fury. Her eyes swept over the scene with one glance, and when she spoke her voice echoed loud throughout the entire corridor. It was nearly as impressive as a Howler. Italics and exclamation marks abounded.

"_Hermione Granger! Pansy Parkinson!_ How _dare_ you! This is _most unseemly_! Miss Granger, what sort of behavior is this in our Head Girl? And Miss Parkinson! A _prefect_! Just think of it the two of you! Just_ what_ people might have thought to see you!"

"But Professor!" Seamus interrupted, "Parkinson was the one that attacked Hermione! She did it in self-defense!"

"_Silence_ Mr. Finnigan!" she yelled in his direction with such a look of fury that he looked down to his feet, chastised.

"_Fifty_ points from the both of you!" she roared, "And a detention each!" she stopped breathing heavily and a moment or two later, she said in a slightly more calmer voice, "Now Miss Weasley, Miss Zabini, please escort your friends to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you! Get to class!"

Draco stared, shocked into paralysis. What… what had just happened? He watched as Hermione stumbled to her feet, as she leaned hard on Ginny and Seamus's shoulders who were supporting her. Dave Thomas was retrieving her scattered things, and she was bleeding from her arms where Pansy's nails had dug into her flesh, the redness of the blood slick and shiny on her skin. She was shaking her head, telling them she was fine, but they proceeded to continue to drag her towards the Hospital Wing. Pansy was receiving much of the same treatment by the other Slytherins, mostly from the girls as they helped her to her feet and quickly dragging the girl along towards the Hospital Wing.

He shook his head, trying to gather coherent thoughts from the muddle that had become his brain. Pansy and Hermione had never been close… anyone at their school could testify to that. But they had never gotten into a full-out catfight before. Pansy was not the smartest of women, but she still had plenty of common sense. It was not like her to attack someone so very much out in the open. And Hermione… since when had she been one to hit back? And hit back hard enough to break Pansy's nose? Draco knew better than to assume she had blindly swung out at Pansy's face. Any harder, and at any more of a steeper angle and she would have shoved Pansy's nose upwards, sending the cartilage and whatever bits of bone into her brain, effectively killing her. Hermione shouldn't know these things…! But there it was, she had broken Pansy's nose on purpose.

"Mr. Malfoy, I do believe if you refuse to continue moving, I will be forced to give you a detention." He turned right around to see Snape standing right behind him, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Er… yes professor…" Draco replied hastily and moving towards Arithmancy, another one of those classes split between Slytherin and Gryffindor. However Pansy didn't take Arithmancy and Hermione… well there was no telling if she would get back before the class was done… so there would be no way to talk to either of them any time soon.

His anger, noticeably diminished made everything appear different to him now… especially seeing the slight figure of Hermione move slowly through the crowds towards the Hospital Wing, this time without either Harry Potter or Ron Weasley to help take some of the blame.

He shook his head, bewildered. Since when had she ever looked so fragile? This girl who had been so confident and spunky… since when did she just break down and cry without having some other ulterior motive. He briefly recalled Fifth year when she had fooled all of them, including Umbridge to believe her.

He had been secretly impressed when he'd found out the truth at the end… though it had been completely eclipsed by the rage over what they had done to his father. Was this that same Hermione Granger? What had she to achieve pitching a catfight with Pansy? For that matter, what did _Pansy_ have to achieve instigating the fight in the first place?

Slowly he made his way to class, following the flow of the tide as his thoughts wandered far from his body. After all, Pansy, despite the obvious fact that she had single-handedly destroyed whatever good reputation she might have had before found out more through her sexual rendezvous with plenty of people with the necessary information. Since she had dedicated herself to him, he thought of her in some abstract way in the back of his head like she was his possession. The only reason he allowed her to shag other men was because she brought him useful information that way.

"_Faster_ Mr. Malfoy." Again, Snape's voice broke into the blond boy's thoughts and this time there was a hint of true warning in the older man's tone. He immediately quickened his pace, hurrying to class.

Snape turned around then, and with robes billowing, headed for the Hospital Wing. He appeared just as Madame Pomfrey burst out into another one of her rants as she began patching up Pansy first who was squalling like a wounded cat.

Hermione was silent in her chair, not being hurt enough to have a bed, but she looked up when he walked in. "Professor," she said, acknowledging him with a nod of her head.

"What in the world happened there, Miss Granger?" he demanded, "What gave Miss Parkinson the reason to attack you?"

She shrugged, eyes wide with confusion. "I don't know… except…" her eyes lit up with sudden comprehension, "I _did_ accidentally walk in on them when they were… er…" she looked up at the face of the Potions' Master. "Well, I'd say they were heading to the_ Room_."

He frowned. "I see… and did you do this on _purpose_?" he asked, dark eyes probing hers for any indication that she was lying.

She shook her head, "I was going back to my room for my new quill," she explained, "I didn't even think that they might be heading for that room. But…" she shrugged, before she winced at the movement, "I didn't think that would make her _that_ mad…!" She frowned up at him, "I left as soon as I could! I didn't _mean_ to drop my pen! It just fell out of my bag." She pointed at the school satchel lying at her feet, "There's a hole in that thing that I keep forgetting to mend. Guess I have more than one reason to sew it back up _now_."

"You know this will put you in serious reconsideration about revoking your Head Girl badge."

She turned white. "No… No Professor Snape you can't do that… not for something as little as this—!"

He shook his head, and his voice came lower than ever so that no others could hear him, "I would be a little more careful Miss Granger. The situation you have been placed in is a very dangerous one… if your badge were to be revoked you would be able to go back into the relative safety of Gryffindor—"

"No!" she looked adamant. "I'm not going to back down because someone as despicable as Pansy Parkinson is mad at me!"

He sighed, "I will not press this matter now when even the walls have eyes and ears. Later perhaps, when we have the time."

She nodded as he began to walk away.

"And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for contradicting me." he replied silkily as he continued on out of the Hospital Wing. "After all," he added, "it wouldn't do to favor the wrong house now would it? Scarlet and gold is very much not my color."

"Well green _does_ have that sallow tint," she muttered to herself.

From somewhere near the doorway, she heard him call back, "I think that will be another point, Miss Granger. I heard that."

She grumbled internally from then on.

She was also plunked back into class so quickly she blinked at the transition phase. Time didn't just fly when you were having fun. Time flew when it _wanted_ to. Nevertheless, she studiously took out the long scrolls of parchment and began meticulously copying down everything that Professor Vector wrote down on the board, what she said, and then some.

When the class was ended, she was _still_ taking notes.

Draco, already slow in the packing up of his things, was becoming impatient with her. All his earlier anger washed back over him in a moment, and he took a step forward in her direction. Then he stopped and _looked_.

Hermione's sleeves were pulled up high, baring the skin of her arms, and the slight scars that would fade within the hour thanks to Madame Pomfrey's quick and precise spell. Small, but evidently capable muscles moved under that skin that not even the puckered white skin of the scars could mar. Hair that glittered a brilliant copper in the soft candlelight and the lamps hanging from the high brackets of the classroom that shone and caught his eye like some gold-threaded fabric. Those adorable lips pouting and pursing themselves in turn as she paused over a specific word, tapping the end of her quill on her chin.

He took a step back then, grabbed his satchel and nearly ran out of the room. Nagini, also in that selfsame class noticed this better than most because she had been watching him, and the effect Hermione Granger had on him. She wrinkled her nose. The girl was a mudblood, plain and simple. That the son of a Malfoy would actually think of someone of that particular breed differently was almost laughable. She shook his head. If the boy actually gave in to temptation for this… _girl_, then he was even weaker than she had ever imagined.

Closing her book with a snap, she swept out of the room. Foolish to rest on silly matters like these. There were more important things to worry about… like this Harry Potter for instance. He was not what she had expected at all. Her plans had to be adjusted, just the slightest bit to accommodate all this new information. But it would not stop her for long. Few things ever did.

~*~*~*~

End Chapter four.

Well? Okay, not okay, you tell me… okay? It's awfully hard not to have Draco suddenly melt all over Hermione and I have to work hard not to get too mushy. No one wants that (except in minimal doses) and Hermione can't suddenly be all moony-eyed over a guy she's hated for six years! But confusion is a very natural thing when tempted with the "forbidden fruit" as we shall put it. Give it time. Everything will fall into place. Eventually. I think. *grimace*

Anyway, REVIEW ME! I like reviews a lot. Especially reviews with more than just "like the fic, write more." Uh… cool… you want me to respond to that how? No offense to anyone who does write those, it's just asking only for a few seconds (and two more brain cells) to write a few more words. But then again… reviews are reviews. And big, big numbers of reviews I like looking at just as much! :D


	6. Chapter 05

**Against All Odds**

**Chapter Five**

Koneko-chan says!

What is there to say? I revised this chapter, and it's shiny.

Relena-chan: *cocks head confusedly* Shiny?

Heero-chan: *shakes head* Don't ask. Just don't ask.

~*~*~*~

Hermione bustled into DADA looking properly studious, with her quill stuck behind her ear (consequently forgotten), a blot or two of ink on her nose, and her satchel crammed with books that quite literally bulged bigger than she. "Sorry!" she gasped at Professor Sally, "I'm really sorry! But I had to stay behind to speak with Professor Vector and…"

"I will accept your excuse today. Please sit down, Miss Granger." Replied the strange, almost faraway voice of the new teacher…

Immediately, Hermione was reminded strongly of Professor Trelawney and with an odd look on her face, sat down. Pulling out her textbook, she turned to the girl sitting beside her for the page number while Professor Sally continued talking. She then did a double-take. "Nagini?" she asked, rather surprised, as the DADA class was for Gryffindors only. "What are you doing here?"

"My timetable is different from the other Slytherins. I do not know why. There were apparently not enough Slytherins needing a DADA class this period to fit into their schedules so the school put me in this class." The other girl replied as she held up her book, displaying the page number.

Hermione hurriedly flipped to the page. There was just something about that girl… it just made a shiver run up her spine. Despite her overtures of attempting friendliness, she could simply _feel_ the waves of hidden animosity coming from that girl. But then there was something else… she just couldn't tell _what_. So she flashed Nagini an uneasy smile and turned back to Professor Sally.

She was pleasantly surprised when she realized that the woman could teach… and could teach very well in fact. The woman spoke in a quick, precise manner that belied her almost dreamy expression. Hermione found herself wondering just who this woman was who knew so much about the Dark magic that the other side used… where had the Headmaster found this woman? She shook her head… this professor was as good as Professor Lupin was… or even better. Even still, there was still a shred of suspicion in her as she watched the woman at the front of the classroom. After all, Professor Moody had been a good teacher as well… as well-versed in the Dark Arts as this woman seemed to be. And he had turned out to be a Death Eater… in fact, Voldemort's most _trusted_ Death Eater.

"And so… Cruciatus is viewed as one of the worst curses one can use. Obviously I have just showed you that this is untrue… and that others, like this particularly nasty spell I have just told you about, produce far worse products. But as this spell is one of the hardest to cast, it is not viewed as one of the Unforgivables, simply because not many witches or wizards can cast it. It takes the work of a very powerful Dark Mage to cast in fact. It simply goes to show how Dark witches and wizards go about bending the rules, doesn't it?"

Hermione held up her hand, "You said that only a Dark Mage can cast the spell… which means they are better than others, right? Does the Ministry have any Mages? Or are they what we call the Aurors?"

Professor Sally smiled, "Aurors are used by the Ministry as government-funded attack officials… their spells lean towards the offensive. A Mage on the other hand is one of the most powerful witches or wizards around. It must be said that Voldemort—" most of the class winced at the name, and clapped their hands over their ears, "—once had a Dark Mage under his services. It is happy to note, in this case anyway, that he feared the Dark Mage would usurp him, and because of the things he did to that Mage, he no longer has one at his disposal. I do not know of any Mage that works for the Ministry."

"Perhaps not for the Ministry… but do you know one that sides with… Dumbledore, at the very least?" the question was pointed, and it was fired by the serious-faced Nagini. She looked at the teacher with her startling green eyes that never blinked as they held the other woman's eyes.

"I do not push my nose into the Headmaster's affairs. If you wished to find out the answers to your questions, perhaps a talk with the Headmaster himself would do you well. But class is over, so if you would pack up your books…?"

The class ended with a flurry of things being shoved into their bags, and Nagini stood up slowly, never taking her eyes off of the new teacher. It was only when she walked out the door that she spoke, very, very quietly. "Perhaps you might rethink where your loyalties lie, Vampire."

The woman watched her as she left the class, but made no comment. And odd thing to do for a professor.

Nagini frowned as she left the classroom. An odd feeling was swirling up from the pit of her stomach upwards, a strange little feeling she was unable to tell what it was. It wasn't anything particularly painful, so she ignored it.

But somewhere in the back of her head, there was the soft, soft whisper of a snake's hiss, like an echo, a memory of a serpent, whose voice has long since died with its body. _Daughter… daughter…_

Hermione left the room with a feeling that she was being glared at. True to form, the moment she stepped out of the class, there was Ron, and the expression on his face was murderous.

"What were you _doing_ in there?" he roared, stopping people in their tracks as they buzzed in closer, intrigued.

She stared at him. "What?" she replied, confused still on what he meant.

"You know what I mean!"

She blinked at him, then Harry. He shuffled from one foot to another, before nodding his head at Nagini. Then everything fell into place. The class had been paired up so as to do some project or other on other less known Dark curses. She and Nagini had inevitably been paired up.

"You're getting mad at me because I'm not working with you?" she demanded, incredulously. Nagini stopped walking, turning around to watch them with those green eyes of hers.

"I'm mad because you're—you're—" Ron's fists were shaking with his pent up rage. "You're _fraternizing with the enemy! AGAIN!_"

"Big words, Weasley, take you months to learn it right?"

Hermione cringed at the drawling tone as Draco strode into view, his books in one hand, his infamous grating smile plastered onto his face. "What do you want, Draco?" she asked, though the venom in her tone was significantly lessened by the fact that she no longer used his surname when addressing him.

"Why, I was just passing by, little Daisy," he told her with a faint mocking look of surprise, even as the flush worked itself up the back of her neck, "And of course, who could ignore Weasley's lackluster shouting?"

Nagini too had come forward, not exactly supporting Hermione, but certainly not agreeing with Ron. After all, her own dignity was at stake here too while he was insulting the mudblood. And a serpent would rather lose an eye than a shred of dignity.

Harry was watching Draco now with blatant distaste, but he wasn't exactly defending his best friend either. Ron glared at the two of them, but he was not induced to switch his rage on them. Rather, he focused on Hermione, focused on her supposed betrayal. "Think you're too good for us now?" he demanded of her, "Think just because you made Head Girl you can just—"

"Ron!" Harry protested finally, "You know Hermione's not like that!"

"Yeah? Can't you see the company she keeps nowadays? A stinking Slytherin!"

Nagini was furious now. How dare this red-headed brat insult her when she could rip him to shreds in a second? Her hands shook as she summoned up her coldest look, forcing Ron to look at her and cower inside, just a little. One could not look at Nagini Whetlyn when she was in that much of a foul mood without having the urge to run in the opposite direction. Harry looked even more uncomfortable now beside his best friend, and looked at Hermione apologetically.

Hermione herself was quite the opposite of Nagini who was coldly furious. She exploded was a good enough expression for it. But she was not foolish enough to start a brawl since he was, after all, Ron Weasley whom she'd known for years and could be counted on to be a little hot-tempered, especially now since she was already in danger of having the Head Girl badge revoked. So she settled for taking the three steps that separated them. She grabbed a handful of the front of his robes, hauling him down so that his face was level with her. It was hard to make warm brown eyes like hers cold. She managed it quite well and he gulped despite himself.

"What are you trying to say, Ron?" she demanded, "That you think I'm better than you? That just because I can't be as prejudiced against people just because they're in a different house like you that makes me a traitor? Are you really that _blind_?" she snapped, looking him straight in the eyes.

He glared at her, yanking himself free. "I don't have anything to say someone who will do anything for power. You've done it all these years Hermione, and we've all watched you do it! Always sucking up to the teachers, to the Headmaster, going through so much trouble to be bloody perfect and laugh our faces about your accomplishments!"

Now all of them were staring at him. She and Harry were both horrified, sensing the impending collapse of their Trio. "Now, come on Ron!" protested Harry, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder, "You're going too far—"

"_Am I_?" he roared, pointing at her, "Aren't we her best friends? And yet all that stuff happened to her last year and she deems my little sister trustworthy enough to tell her secrets to, and she doesn't breathe a word of it to either of us!"

"_RON!_" Hermione's face was a picture of rage, "Didn't you think there would be a _reason_ I didn't tell you what happened? And even if I didn't tell you, aren't you intelligent enough to guess?"

"There you go again, making yourself be better than us! I'm _sick_ of it!"

"Aren't you the one always begging her for answers, Weasley?" Draco asked from his position leaning on the wall of the corridor, "Don't see you spouting all that trash when she's helping you pass."

"Stay out of this, Draco." Hermione said quietly. She glared at all the bystanders were who quietly whispering at each other, "All of you! Get to class!" Her voice was loud, so that everyone could hear. She needn't have bothered. All ears were already on the argument.

Most of the other students _did_ leave, pushing aside others who were coming closer to see what all the noise was about. Amazingly, Professor Sally did not appear outside of her closed door, even though it was more than likely she would have heard them shouting at each other.

She turned back to Ron, "This argument is over." She said coldly, "I'm not going to listen you drag out into the open what happened last year… or what you think happened which will be even worse. I'm not going to continue to listen to you yelling at me with all these people around trying to hear every word we speak. If you have a problem with my being Head Girl, you might have voiced those opinions years ago when you were still encouraging me."

She began to walk away.

But Ron would not let her go without having the last word. Harry could see it coming and grabbed him, but it was too late. "Having one Malfoy wasn't good enough, was it?" he yelled after her, "You need the younger one too? Want a complete set, don't you?"

She froze completely, her books falling from her arms to the floor.

Ron realized then he had crossed the line, and the realization was slowly showing on his face as she turned around, achingly slowly, a mixture of rage and agony on her face. Ginny peeled herself away from the group of spectators, running to the older girl, glaring at her brother. Harry abandoned Ron as he loped over to Hermione, trying to pull her away lest she do something drastic. But she was beyond that. Nagini herself almost couldn't watch the heartbreaking look on Hermione's face. One could only get that look of ultimate betrayal from a best friend.

"Hermione… I…" Ron fumbled for more words to say, but was unable to find them. Alone again, his grand appearance seemed to dwindle, and suddenly he was the gangly, freckled-faced redhead again that they'd all known from previous years. But it was different this time… there was no Hermione Granger and Harry Potter supporting him.

"How… how _dare_ you…" she whispered, her lips white with the way she was pressing them together. Ginny saw it coming, sweeping Hermione into a comforting embrace, but it was too late. No matter how Hermione tried to hide her face in her friend's shoulder, Ron as well as Draco and Nagini, could see her lower lip trembling before she hid her face from them, both in Ginny's shoulder and her own curtain of hair. There was still the unmistakable glimmer of tears.

Nagini turned upon Ron, a newfound sense of kinship with Hermione that she'd never thought could be formed with a lowly mudblood. But that didn't seem to matter now in the face of this arrogant brat. "A detention, I should think." She told him coldly, devoid of the overly saccharine sweetness that Hermione might have used when she was being sarcastic to him, "For insulting _all three_ of the Head Students, and accusing Hermione with things that are based on nothing more than your own opinions."

"You can't—!"

"Yes, I believe I can. Detention. With Filch. Report yourself now." Nagini replied, snapping the clothing of her sleeve with a gesture of her right hand. "Go."

With one last glare, Ron slunk off in the direction of Filch's office. Hermione turned away from him. Harry looked just as awkward, following Ron's mop of red hair as he thrust himself through the crowds, ignoring anyone who tried to speak with him. Draco took charge, "The rest of you! Didn't you hear her tell you to get to class?" This time, they all disappeared towards their classes, recognizing the power in Draco's words.

He turned back to them, "Potter, the Gryffindor and Slytherin have double Potions now. The four of us have it. I'm going to go and tell Snape the rest of you are going to be late as he'll be less likely to bite my head off than if you go. You and Nagini take Hermione back to our Common Room… she looks sick." And indeed, Hermione was looking rather green around the edges of her face. "And you, Weasley, you'd better get to class. Common room is charmed, Potter might sneak in, but a Sixth year won't be able to."

He walked off in the direction of the dungeons, leaving Harry staring after him. _Was Malfoy actually being… civil?_ Breaking off the train of thought, he turned back to Hermione, "Malfoy's right I guess. You're not up for facing Snape… especially not double Potions."

"But I'll get behind and—"

"Draco is the one handling Snape. I have already heard it spoken that he is the Potions teacher's favorite student. And I have also heard that if you missed a week of classes, you would not have fallen behind. Let's go."

Ginny nodded slowly as she watched the older Slytherin girl take charge, "Well… I guess I should get to class then," she said awkwardly. Nagini nodded curtly. "That would be best. Draco is right, our rooms _are_ charmed."

Harry nodded slowly, "I guess that's a good idea." Hermione was trying to hide the tears that wouldn't stop coming from her eyes with her sleeve. It was if she had pushed all that back inside her head trying to forget and Ron had brought it all back into the fore, and it was if she couldn't stop it anymore, that something had broken and she couldn't thrust it back into that small hiding spot again. Harry realized at once that whatever had happened last year, she hadn't faced it at all… she'd hidden from it.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's get you back to your rooms and then we can a House Elf to bring you something warm to drink," he told him, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly, not really used to giving much comfort. The three of them made their way to the Head Students' common room. Harry stopped short at the portrait. "_Sirius?!_" he gasped, staring at the oil painting on canvas, and a look of utter anguish appeared on his features, "Sirius is that really you?"

The boy in the portrait peered down at him, then gasped, pointing. "You're James's kid, aren't you?"

Harry looked like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, "You don't… don't remember me?" he croaked out, pushing back the tears. He hadn't taken Sirius's death back in Fifth year well at all. Hermione, even in the midst of her own forced misery understood it. "He's the same age as us, Harry… he's not the Sirius we… knew."

Sirius looked up at her suddenly, "_Knew?_" he asked, "You mean… I'm no longer… there?"

James ran into the portrait then, "What's this about—bah!!" he jumped when he noticed the audience, then he caught sight of Harry and his expression changed. "My God… you're…"

Harry stared hungrily at the image of two of the people he'd missed more than anyone else in the world, like he couldn't get enough of being with them, even if they were just a painting. Hermione could see now more than ever how much he wanted them back, Sirius, James… his mother…

"Dad?" the one word trembled, the one word Harry had never said before to anyone, and one could see just how much wonder he put into the word.

James too couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Harry, "You look… just like me… no… no you don't… those eyes… I know those eyes…"

"Those are Lily's eyes…" Sirius said slowly, leaning forward as if he could lean out of the portrait itself to get a closer look at Harry, "Lily Evans's!"

Hermione slowly felt herself drawn out of the dismal memories that Ron's unwitting accusations had resurfaced, becoming wrapped up in what was happening between Harry and the figures in the portrait. Nagini too was quiet, thoughtful as she watched what was happening with an odd look in her eyes.

There was an enormous difference between her previous life as a serpent, and this present one, embodied as a human being. Everything had been ever so much simpler. It was the same with Animagi, emotions, feelings; they were all lessened to some degree when in animal form, when everything wasn't as complex as it was in their human state.

She was only just realizing it was harder to be as cold and as unfeeling in this human state as it had been when she hadn't been human.

Harry shook himself free of the daze he'd settled into, staring at the figures in the portrait, looking back to Hermione. "My friend Ron's an idiot… said some stuff he shouldn't have… Hermione's in a bit of a fix you see…" he said awkwardly.

"Skipping class are we?" James replied shrewdly.

"Er…" Harry nodded.

"Good, I approve. Come now you two, password the both of you."

"To rule them all." Nagini replied promptly, "And if you wouldn't mind… mightn't one of you see if there is a House Elf somewhere around these parts? Hermione might use a good drink."

"Anything to please the little lady. And you… boy… what did you say your name was?"

"H-Harry…"

"Harry, eh?" James looked down quietly at the boy, "I always liked that name… well… you'll come back around sometime won't you? Stop by to see us?"

Harry nodded vigorously, "I'd like to."

"I'll hold you to that," James told him as the portrait swung open and the three of them clambered in. Hermione seemed to be looking slightly better now. She had stopped crying some, and her face had lost that greenish tinge that made her look as if she might be sick to the stomach with the awful things she must have been remembering.

She threw herself down on the large couch and curled herself up into a ball, the self-confident adult woman cracking to reveal the child underneath as she watched them both with almost frightened eyes. "How could Ron do that?" she whispered, replaying the scene over and over as if it were something set on Repeat that she couldn't turn off, "I never thought he'd… he'd…"

Harry shook his head, sitting down beside her and laying a careful arm around her shoulders, "You know Ron… he just blows up. Thinks of himself kind of like your older brother…"

"I don't _need_ a big brother." She told him forcefully, "If this is the way he treats Ginny, I don't need him at _all_."

Harry looked vaguely panicked, "Now Hermione… you know Ron… he just gets mad, y'know? He's made an ass out of himself and he knows it… he didn't mean any of the stuff he said… he was just trying to vent. He wasn't chosen to be Captain in Quidditch… found out this morning… he wasn't really mad at just _you_, y'know?"

Nagini swept up, holding a mug of steaming hot chocolate, "Drink it." She told Hermione, holding out the mug, "You'll feel better." She balanced herself on the coffee table, and watching the two of them silently.

Hermione took the mug of steaming liquid in her hands and took a sip, her mouth filled with rich liquid chocolate and sweet-tasting marshmallows. Harry was silent for a moment before he glanced in Hermione's direction, and said quietly. "Was Ron right? Did something happen last year…? Something to do with Lucius Malfoy?"

Hermione's hands shook and he stopped hastily, "You don't have to say anything! If you can't tell me… I can understand that. After all… you are a girl… I can't say I don't understand if you'll tell Ginny and won't tell us… you're going to need to get over it a little more before you can tell us… I promise I'll talk to Ron about it… straighten things out…"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah… yeah you do that." She took a deep shuddering breath and forced a smile on her face, blowing on her hot chocolate, which immediately cooled to a manageable temperature for her to drink quickly. Setting it down on the table beside Nagini, she stood up, still with that smile pasted on her features. "I'm going to go and wash my face." She told them both, walking towards her room, "I'll be right back."

"Right." Harry replied, knowing when not to push her even more than she was willing to give. "We'll wait for you."

As soon as he disappeared, an uncomfortable silence fell between Nagini and himself. She looked up, blinking rather owlishly at him, "You are a good friend to her, I see."

He shrugged uncomfortably, "Well… I guess… we've always been together, Hermione, Ron and me. I don't want to think what might happen if Ron keeps making such an ass out of himself."

"I see." She pursed her full lips, watching him thoughtfully. "You are a very handsome young man, Harry Potter." She told him unexpectedly, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

He blushed scarlet, "Ex—excuse me?" he stuttered, "I'm not… er…"

"Yes, yes you are. If you were not in that relationship of yours with that Ravenclaw that stayed behind this year to study under Professor Flitwick in Advanced Charms, you would have more than the Weasley girl after you."

"How do you know—?"

"I hear things spoken around this school that you might not hear, Harry Potter. I have attempted to find out what has happened in this school in previous years, having heard bits and pieces even all the way in Durmstrang."

Harry still looked uncomfortable, "I'm not quite sure I know what you're getting at…"

"Well… there are things a girl wants to know about the most famous boy in all of wizarding history…" Nagini replied coyly, a slow, sexy smile spreading on her face, making him gulp, but there was still that look of the faintly interested in his eyes. She smiled, this time losing some of the sultry and replacing it with a hint of the slight pout that she had found Harry staring at whenever he was near Cho Chang. "And… I don't know… I don't want to follow the rules and hate you like every other Slytherin."

"You… don't…?" he repeated, biting his lip and trying to keep from turning brick red.

"No… in fact if Ravenclaw weren't in the way, I might have considered trying to seduce you… but you're too much the gentleman to do that to… Cho, was her name?"

Harry turned an even deeper red, something that actually made him look charmingly adorable, "Er… well…"

Nagini shook her head, "Aren't you?" she repeated.

"Well… yeah…" Harry admitted, "I wouldn't like to do that to Cho…"

"I knew it. You have no idea how hard I have found it to find a boy in Slytherin who one might deem trustworthy."

"Oh, all of them are, y'know," said Hermione from the door to her room, "You see, you can always count on the dishonest ones to be dishonest. It's the honest ones you have to look out for… you never know when an honest man will do something…" her eyes zeroed in on Harry, "…extremely stupid…"

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "Like fall for a girl like me?"

Hermione shook her head, "No I wasn't thinking about that… I was thinking how Harry would be so all-fired noble about Cho… even if he did start liking other girls. The girl just fluctuates between blushing and crying. Can't tell you what he sees in her."

Harry glared at Hermione, determined to defend his girlfriend, "Hey, she's not that bad! She's just… sensitive…"

Now Nagini raised her other eyebrow. "So I assume you have not done much with this girlfriend of yours, have you?"

Harry blushed at her bluntness, "Well… I'm not the type to kiss and tell."

"An excuse well-known to those who have not gotten any," Hermione muttered, staring innocently at the ceiling.

Nagini looked at her sharply, trying to find even a glimpse of that broken little child she had seen in her face only minutes ago. But there was nothing now, only the sweetly sultry smile that seemed to be what had attracted Draco Malfoy to her.

"_Hey!_" he protested.

Nagini shook her head, "She speaks truth you know… it has been well-proven amongst the female population." She let a faint smile slide onto her lips as she watched him with those green eyes of hers through her long dark eyelashes. "Aren't you going to prove all of us wrong?"

Hermione laughed, throwing her arms around Harry's neck, "We're not going to go that far…" she told Nagini with a grin, "But I'm quite sure we're going to be able to prod him enough that he'll tell us all of it sooner or later of his own accord."

Nagini shrugged, "I suppose. Now, perhaps we might go to class? Draco Malfoy may be Professor Snape's pet student, but I don't think that same honor falls upon the rest of us."

"Oh hell, you're right!" Harry exclaimed, leaping to his feet, "Snape is going to put me a detention for a week!"

Hermione immediately looked around with an almost panicked expression on her face, "Where are my books? Did I leave them in the hallway?" she exclaimed, wringing her hands as she searched the place.

Nagini shook her head, "The Weasley girl took them," she replied, "I saw her, just as we were taking you back here. Perhaps she still has them? Or would she know to bring it to Snape's classroom?"

"She'll probably keep them with her," Harry replied, snatching up his own schoolbooks, "The Sixth years have Transfiguration now… she'll be there."

Hermione nodded, "Let's go then!"

Nagini followed them soon after, gliding on her two legs in a way not many humans, not even Snape or Professor Sally could replicate. That feeling hadn't gone away… in fact, it had become a sort of small, sharp pain now. Nothing big, but enough to cause her discomfort... The three of them exited the portrait hole, found that the both Sirius and James had disappeared from the frame (the little cat in the opposite painting told them they'd gone after a bunch of Veela in negligees down the Charms corridor portraits). The three of them made a quick stopover in McGonagall's class (she wasn't pleased at the disruption) before running pell-mell down towards the dungeons.

The moment they walked in, the class went silent, watching to see what the Potions Master would do.

He glared at them. "Well? Will you continue to disrupt my class or will you three find your seats and take them or do I have to put you all in detention? Miss Granger, your position as Head Girl is already in danger… do you think you can risk another detention so soon?"

She frowned, not looking at him before she sat down in her regular seat. Ron, who had come in late as well, though earlier than the three of them looked at her nervously, but she didn't even acknowledge his existence, not even going for the childishness of moving her stool several inches to the other side. She simply opened her book, took out her quill and began concentrating on Snape again.

Draco tried to catch her eye as well, or at the very least try to discern something of what had happened, but she wasn't looking at anything other than who she had to be, and she immersed herself in listening to Snape who, despite all his other multiple faults, had a wonderful voice making him easier to follow than other teachers, say Binns.

Nagini too, was listening to the man and watching him closely, but for completely different reasons. She remembered this boy too… remembered him as the intelligent boy who had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters in order to gain more knowledge, to find out more of what he already knew… to find a truth that in reality, had never actually existed. She also remembered when he'd left, betrayed them. What had puzzled her was that the Master had let him go. There was the obvious logical answer of course, the Master certainly hadn't been in the strongest of conditions, but he'd still had people under his command… She shook her head; she did not question the Master.

It was later along in the class that Nagini realized just how much the Potions Master hated Harry Potter… and how much he hated her as well, for reasons unknown.

"Detention!"

The boy groaned, retracting his hand, from which a piece of parchment he'd been trying to pass in front of Hermione's eyes, still dangled. Hermione glanced at him once, startled, as if just noticing that he'd been trying to get her attention.

"And you! Detention." Nagini snapped to attention, before realizing that Snape's finger was pointing directly in her face. She blinked. "Me?"

"Do I appear to be pointing in any other direction, Miss Whetlyn?"

"But I—!" she began indignantly before he cut her off with a swift gesture of his hand. "Enough. You were not paying attention!"

She stood up suddenly, startling the people around her, unable to stop herself from doing at least this. In the face of wanting to lunge at him and ripping out his throat with her blunt human teeth, she figured it was a good reflection on her self-control. Still, she could not hold back the fact that her body was shaking, nearly out of control as she fisted her hands at her sides. How dare this man, this man who knew nothing of loyalty to the Master, try and dominate over her?

"Nagini Whetlyn, _sit down_!" Snape's voice had become dangerously silky, forewarning of severe trouble ahead if she kept going.

She kept going. "I'm not going to listen to a professor who does not even have the power to maintain discipline in his classes without resorting to outright shows of favoring students. Nor am I going to respect the wishes of a man who cannot even decide which side of the war he will fight on!"

"_Miss Nagini! That is enough! _Or I will see that your Head Girl status be revoked!" he bellowed, shocking the class, since, for all the years they had known the greasy-haired Potions Master, he had never, ever shouted. He had been angry, obviously, and they had seen that look of loathing, most often shot directly at Harry Potter. But shouting? Never.

Nagini's eyes burned, as she swept up to him, and with one swift blow, slapped her clear across the face. The entire class gasped as they saw his face whirl in the opposite direction, before Nagini had gathered up all of her books, as if by magic, and had disappeared out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Hermione was certainly paying attention to the outside world now… and she was staring open-mouthed after the raven-haired Head Girl as she made her grand exit.

Not that anyone else noticed this… they were all too busy staring after Nagini Whetlyn themselves. The buzz of hushed conversation began not a moment later. Since the arrival of the Whetlyn girl, the school had seen sides to several of their more… important characters than they ever had before…

"_Silence!_" Snape's voice was deadly, and instantly, all chatter dried up. But it was a very awkward class, and all in it knew it, all of them wriggling to get out of the confines of his lair in the dungeons so that they might speak freely of the incident in the relative safety of the hallways and the corridors. Snape, knowing full well of this, took advantage of them by keeping them all in for five extra minutes after class.

Nagini however, having found herself at a loss at what to do, had simply dropped to her knees not too far away from the Potions classroom, breathing hard, her heart pounding… what had… what had _possessed_ her to do such a thing? She should have more self-restraint than that! And yet, here she was, blowing up at a professor simply because he had given her a detention. An unfair detention, obviously, but it was still not enough to blow up over.

"Miss Whetlyn? Has class become so terrible dull that it is better to huddle near a suit of armor than be anywhere near the confines of a classroom?" the slightly amused tone made her look up, directly into the face of Albus Dumbledore. She blinked once before straightening up immediately, and forcing her eyes to look down to the ground, in a position of meek submissiveness. "I… I…" she tried to say, but the words felt and sounded foreign in her mouth and she seemed to have lost her grasp on the English language. What was it about this man that commanded that the truth be told to him, that he know everything that she had plotted to do in the name of the Master?

"I just received an urgent call from our resident Potions Master… says he had trouble dealing with a certain Head Girl in his classroom… and since he has told me directly that Hermione Granger was not to blame…"

She shook her head, placing her face in her hands so that he might not see her expression. She was disgusted with herself… she had more than once been commended as being the most conniving and devious and _subtlest_ of the Master's followers… to suddenly lash out like that towards a professor, someone in power, was beyond her to comprehend. "I do not believe this…" she muttered into his hands, "Only a day into the year, and I lose my title as Head Girl…"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, looking down his long, crooked nose at her, "Now, whoever said such a thing?" he asked, with a look of surprised on his wrinkled old features, but there was a hint of sparkle in his blue, blue eyes. She looked up at him, green eyes dry, but worried. "What do you mean?" she demanded immediately, "Do you mean to say that even after that… show of complete insubordination, you would allow me to retain my title?"

Dumbledore looked serious, "We are all completely willing to forgive and forget the incident, as long as you apologize to Professor Snape… he is after all, a teacher, and he cannot accept such behavior from you, especially before the eyes of your fellow students."

She looked at him in horror, "You want me to… _apologize_?"

"Why yes, yes of course. It is necessary wouldn't you think?" he asked her, pinning her with those eyes of his again, "Since, after all, we certainly cannot allow that sort of behavior to go on in our school… terrible things there are enough that will happen… and are happening right at this very moment. The staff need, at the very least, to keep some semblance of order. Wouldn't you say, Miss Whetlyn?"

She looked down, "I'm not entirely used to taking orders from other people." She admitted finally, speaking partially because she needed to make him stop looking at him with those sharp blue eyes that missed nothing, and partially because… well…

He shook his head, "Even you would say that that is not an excuse. You have offended one of your professors. And what is more, you have offended him in front of his own class. Such an action must be apologized for."

She grimaced, but swallowed her pride. "Right then," she murmured, before looking up at him, a plaintive look in her face, "But I don't have to do it now, though, do I?"

He smiled, "Then it is settled. You will go to Professor Snape and you will apologize and give yourself over to whatever justice he comes up with." He flashed her a dry smile, "It might be a good idea to remind him that you're in Slytherin otherwise he might be angry enough to forget he'll be setting his House into negative points."

He turned away and she assumed he would continue on walking away, when he stopped. "I must say though," he added, "You reacted much like I would expect a Gryffindor would… albeit, more violently than one would expect. Perhaps the Sorting Hat was wrong, for once. A pity you haven't been to see Gryffindor Tower yet."

She watched as he disappeared around a corner, disappearing into an intersecting corridor. She frowned in confusion… what had he meant by that? She frowned even deeper… he was hinting at something, but more than that, she could not piece together. He surely could not want her to actually go into Gryffindor Tower? Where his precious _Potter_ was being kept amongst all his ever-so-loyal friends?

She sighed, standing up, automatically straightening her robes as she did so. Pride went before a fall, and she always knew she had had too much to be safe while working under the power of the Master. Checking the timepiece on the nearby dusty column, she realized that classes would be over in just a few minutes… might as well go and face the music now. At the very least, by the time she reached the classroom, the class would have emptied out into the corridors and no one would have to witness her humiliation.

She sighed. It was too early in the morning for this…

~*~*~*~

While Nagini had been dallying away her time in a certain dusty corridor, Professor Sally had come to call… that is, she marched directly into Snape's classroom, almost immediately after the girl had stormed out, caught up Snape by the one billowing sleeve, and dragged him into his office, shutting the door firmly after telling the class to say put. Snape was growling something inarticulately to the woman as he was dragged in such a demeaning fashion out of sight of his class. Once the door had closed, he yanked his sleeve out of her hand, and snapped, furiously, "Are you _determined_, woman, to completely lose control over my classes?"

The dark-haired woman, simply crossed her arms, continuing to watch his fury in detached sort of manner. When finally he had stopped speaking, she spoke up. "Nagini will be coming back. To apologize."

Snape stared at her, "How did you—?" he stopped, shaking his head, "Should I even bother asking?"

"I know that girl, my dear Severus, and I know what she is capable of. When she returns, accept her apology… and do not try and make her punishment any greater than detention."

He gaped at her, "What right, have you to barge into my office and tell me how to run my own House?" he demanded, furious.

She raised an eyebrow, "Why, I'm only giving you advice, Severus. Whether or not you decide to take it depends entirely on whether or not you wish to be alive long enough to see the outcome of this 'silent war'."

His thin lips tightened, "Are you threatening me, woman?"

"Now, Severus, there is a class going out outside. _Do_ try and keep your voice at a reasonable level."

He looked ready to fly at her and hurt her in some way, but Severus Snape had more self control than that. He frowned, "What do you know of the girl that is so all-fired important to the war?"

She frowned, "Too much to tell you. But please… take my advice, Severus. She is not what she seems… and it may come to be that she may be a great help to our side."

He did not speak, but there was no doubt the suspicion in his mind about her own credentials, not to mention a mere girl.

"She will come back, and she will be properly penitent. Accept her apology, at the most give her a detention, and possibly a few dozen points. But no farther than that… the safety of the castle may depend on her temper." With these words of warning, she swept out of his office, smiled sweetly at the sea of faces who looked to her in confusion for answers, before disappearing out the door.

Snape appeared a few minutes later, glowering even more than before, and even Harry and Draco almost withered when they caught the full blast of that fury. It was never, ever a good idea to see Snape mad.

It was worse to be the cause. Poor Nagini. Poor Professor Sally.

The moment classes were out, and his particular class had dashed out the door to escape his fury, he slumped down in his chair, leaning his elbows down on the hard wood grain of his desk, and felt, and most probably looked, tired beyond imagining. There had been no sleep for him the previous night, none whatsoever. After that ungodly meeting last night, he'd been ready to simply fall into bed, but then of course, there were other matters at hand… all dealing with Voldemort.

God how he wished he had never been a part of this! Not even working under a great a man as Dumbledore was worth it.

There was a slight knock on his classroom door, and he looked up irritably. "Come in!" he said, more snappishly than he'd intended.

Nagini slipped into the room, her green eyes properly lowered. "I have spoken with Professor Dumbledore," she told him. "And I am here to apologize for what I did earlier this class, and that I am willing to accept whatever punishment you are to give me."

Snape looked up at her sharply, but she made no move to reveal the sudden explosive nature she'd unleashed on him only an hour ago. But there was nothing, she only watched him with that vague sense of detachment that he had seen only a little while earlier on the face of Professor Sally.

"Do you realize just how much face you have made me lose in front of the class?"

She looked up at him then, "Is your reputation so important to you, Professor Snape?" she asked him, properly demure, but there was no hiding the challenging point in her statement.

"I work in a classroom where we brew potions and poisons and any other number of impossible liquids, Miss Whetlyn. We have had so few incidents with our potions because I have taken measures to make my students obey me, for their own safety. If everyone were to turn out as hopeless as Longbottom, there would be no telling what would happen in the confines of this room. So yes, my reputation is important, because if the students fear me, they would do well to pay attention to what I am teaching them. I have heard tell that your Potions' expertise is a great as our resident Hermione Granger. You should, therefore realize that what I am doing needs, to quote a certain Alastor Moody, _constant vigilance_. Otherwise, who knows what might happen?"

She pursed her lips, but she nodded. "I see." She saw some merit in doing such a thing. After all, the Master governed by fear as well, and very few would dare make mistakes when they knew what he would do.

He sat back, making a steeple of his long fingers, "Well then?"

"I apologize for the embarrassment I must have caused you by my little scene earlier on in the class, and I am willing to accept whatever punishment you are to assign me to."

He nodded, and almost appeared to hesitate as to her punishment. Finally, "You will serve detention for a week, Miss Whetlyn after school alongside Potter, beginning tonight. Fifty points shall be taken off, and your place as Head Girl will be put under consideration whether or not it will be revoked."

She nodded, without a word for a moment or two before, "Very well."

"Good. Now get to your next class."

She left the room without another word. But the moment she was out of the classroom, and into a corridor, far away enough to avoid Snape's hearing, she was immediately swamped by hordes of appreciative and admiring students. She blinked in confusion as they rushed up to her with shrill congratulations and pats on her back, until she was quite dizzy with trying to comprehend the entire situation.

"Hey! Give the girl some air!" yelled someone in the back, as they pushed through the large crowd flitting around her, as she stared at them all, still with that perplexed look on her face. This had never happened to her before… and she was not quite sure what she was supposed to do about it.

She looked up to catch the familiar green eyes of Harry Potter as he calmly took her by the arm and began guiding her through the masses. When finally they had reached the main corridor, and the crowds had diluted somewhat he stopped and turned to her. "You all right now?" he asked, with raised eyebrows, "You were looking a mite pale back there."

Nagini nodded dumbly, "What… why were they doing that?"

He grinned, "You're the first since Hermione who's ever done that to Snape… and you've been elevated to a status of heroine for doing so."

She still had that puzzled look on her face as she stared at him, "What do you mean?"

Harry shrugged, "You've seen how Snape is… isn't very high on anyone's favorites list at this school. You were amazing back there."

"I was?" she asked, blankly, trying to collect her thoughts. Strange, strange humans and their skewed ideals of heroism! She shook her head, and summoned up a faint smile, "I do not see how my hasty and irrational actions were worthy of such… admiration, but… you're welcome…?"

He smiled again, "That's the spirit. Now I'm off for class." He disappeared along with the rush of the hallways, meeting up with Ron Weasley along the way. She pursed her lips as she watched him, before allowing them to curl into a devious little smile. So he was beginning to accept her as something more than a Slytherin… perfect.

She would have to report this to the Master as soon as she was able. He had to know what she was accomplishing slowly but surely in this school. Otherwise, he might become impatient enough to come himself, and bring his legions of Death Eaters with him. The Master was cold, calculating, and certainly no risk-taker, but this was something that needed to be done, and needed to be done as quickly as possible. Harry Potter could not live, he was too much of a threat to the Master's plans. As was Dumbledore. They would be gotten rid of.

~*~*~*~

Draco Malfoy, was in no way, in a good mood. Another letter had been owled to him, from his father, referring to the mudblood he had taken up shop with. His father got his information quickly, it seemed. And it also appeared that his father had changed his mind as to what to do with her. He was now supposed to _watch_ her, and waiting for his father's pending instructions as to what to do to her.

If there was one thing he hated to do, it was follow orders.

The moment he'd walked out of class, he'd been immediately confronted by the sight of the glossy-haired brunette as she swept past him through the door, with only a passing glance and slight smile in his direction. He nodded once in response to her smile before she turned away, before his lips pulled themselves into a frown. What was his father planning?

There was no way… absolutely no way that his father had taken an… interest in Hermione Granger… could there? His father was born and bred pure Malfoy… what interest would he take in a mudblood, any mudblood, even one as attractive as Hermione Granger? But… Weasley's words bothered him, as well as Daisy's reaction to Weasley's words.

A loud hooting sound and a flap of wings made him look up instinctively as a renegade owl flew past. It took him a second to recognize the owl as his own. "_Echidna!_" he barked angrily, making the owl swoop around and pull itself into a dive, before it landed neatly on a stone statue's finger. "What are you doing here?" he demanded of her. She simply stared at him with large yellow eyes before holding out her leg imperiously, waiting for him to untie the piece of parchment attached to it.

Once he had freed her leg from the confining string and paper, she fluttered her feathers and took off, swooping into the direction of the Owlery.

He shook his head, and looked down at the piece of parchment in his hand, folded and sealed with the Malfoy crest. Opening it, he recognized his mother's handwriting immediately, even before he read the opening line.

_My darling son,_

Unlike his father, whom most of the time he felt more than a little oppressed by, and governed over, he more than a deep affection for his mother, who, unlike most high class pureblood mothers, took care of her son, raised him up herself, refusing to get him a nanny. And so, more times than anything, when she asked him to do something, he did it, not because he had been ordered to do it, but because he wanted to please his mother. 

_Your father came home today in a horrible fit of temper concerning something his… informants found out at that school of yours. There is talk that you and that Granger girl have become… close. Friends, almost. You do not need me to tell you that his reaction to this little bit of news was fury. You know better than anyone that the nature of her blood and birth are different than your own, and the mix of the two is… well frowned upon at the very best. In the ways of the old families, it is forbidden._

_Strangely enough, I have also been able to glean some information about the failed Death Eaters attack on the castle this previous summer, and that this girl was also somehow involved, despite the fact that the castle should have been empty of students. That, and your father's reaction was… different from that which the both of us would have expected. There was no mention of the word 'Mudblood' anywhere… which is odd enough considering how often he flings about that filthy word. I hope you are not using it on a daily basis yourself, my son, I would hope I have taught you well enough to be a gentleman, even to those of lesser birth than yourself. There were also hints that your father found this girl instrumental in the failure of the last attack on Hogwarts… possibly a reason why he wants her so badly now, in the name of his Dark Lord._

_No matter what his instructions my son, do try and keep away from her… and I have a feeling that you have managed to grow up some, enough so that you might be able to carry on a friendly acquaintance with a Muggle girl. Do this so that your father will have no reason to use you to get her for whatever purpose, which the both of us know can not be a good one._

_All my love, your mother,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

He folded it back up with fingers that had suddenly become numb. What did his father _want_ with Daisy?

He looked up, down the corridor searching for the head of glossy brown hair, but obviously, at her brisk pace, she was long gone now, most likely already sitting in her class, her books out, her quill ready in her hand. He was reminded all of a sudden that he had his own class to go to, and which certainly lay in the opposite direction that she had gone in. He sighed, pocketing the piece of parchment. 

It was for the better, he supposed, after all, his mother was right. He should stay away from her. Besides, he had been blinded already in the face of her charm once he had nearly forgotten that she was a mudblood, beneath him. It was dangerous thinking for this time, when Voldemort was long since due for an uprising against Hogwarts.

He was nearly shoved aside by a red headed fireball that was Ronald Weasley, with such a stormy expression on his face, that instantly Draco knew he hadn't made nicey-nice with Diasy yet. "Watch where you're walking, Weasley."

Ron stopped, glaring at Draco for a moment, his eyes narrowed furiously and his fists clenched at his sides. He was simply _begging_ for a fight, to blow off all the steam he'd accumulated since the scene with Hermione earlier. "Don't tell me what to do, Malfoy!"

Draco raised his eyebrows, "Then you _regularly_ blunder your way into other people like some great bumbling half-giant of your acquaintance, and then ignore it when they tell you of your mistakes? Dear me…" but his eyes were cold, icy, and their color only added to that effect.

Ron glared, "Don't mess with me Malfoy, I'm in a bad enough a mood as it is."

"I see Daisy hasn't forgiven your little outburst earlier today has she?"

Ron's face went red, the color of an overripe tomato. "How dare—"

"_Enough_!"

The two of them turned to see the crowd that had gathered part, to allow the newest addition to the Hogwarts faculty appear in their midst. She didn't look angry, but there was coldness to her expression so that it eclipsed her normally dreamy look almost completely.

Draco found to his surprise that he literally towered over the slight woman, but instead of feeling falsely superior as such a height difference usually brought the taller, he was slightly cowed by the look in her eyes, and the flash of candlelight on her fangs. Dainty as small as they were, they still managed to be prominent, especially when she made no attempt at hiding them.

"To my office, now." She told them, casting that same fierce look towards Ron, saying nothing else as she marched the two boys into her office. Draco's bad mood plummeted to lower depths. Chastised _and_ late!

Flicking her wand to the opposite side of her desks, two wooden chairs appeared. Draco noted with some surprise, that they were the plain wooden chairs that the students regularly sat on (if they weren't sitting on benches), but ornately carved with a pattern of storks flying in swirling clouds. A glance around the office before he sat down confirmed that she was more than interested in her native culture by the looks of the Oriental miscellanies she had everywhere. The smoky scent of incense also hit his nostrils, curling up from a small decorative pot on her desk. He sat down gingerly, as she took her own seat, before beginning right away. "Now tell me exactly what was going on outside." She told them strictly, again allowing the candlelight to reflect off of one bared sharp-looking fang.

Draco grimaced at the sight, and for once, shared a look with Weasley of discomfort, alien to the two of them as it were. The professor watched both of them with keen eyes, "Well?"

"We were… talking, Professor." Ron grudgingly said, "Just talking."

"Talking? Mr. Weasley, your little outburst this morning did not go unheard when you timed it perfectly to erupt right outside my class. I did not take myself to interrupt it then, but I interrupt now before you do anything else as rash. I want to know the entire story of what you know, Ronald Weasley, and not your own fabrication of it that will harm not only your friend's, but this boy and this boy's father."

Ron shrugged, but did not speak.

The woman raised her eyebrows, "Do you realize you touched on a very delicate subject concerning Miss Granger this morning? And that you yelled it out for all the school to hear? News travels fast as undoubtedly the both of you know." Here she looked Draco full in the eyes, and he had to hold back a shudder at the sudden irrational thought that she might know of his father's 'informants'.

Ron looked down into his lap, studying his large callused hands, "I wasn't thinking…"

"I realized that." she replied wryly, "You are best friends with this girl, are you not? How did this change come around?"

"She was…" he cast a dark glare towards Draco, "…fraternizing with the enemy."

Draco stifled a snort, and the urge to roll his eyes.

"'Fraternizing with the enemy'?" she repeated, a hint of a smile quirking her lips, though her eyes continued to remain inquisitive, "So she slips out ever night and crosses several country borders to converse with the Dark Lord, does she?"

"Well… no…"

"Then I see no reason to accuse her of playing behind enemy lines, _yet_. Please think to remember this in the future… you are dismissed." She added, before he could open his mouth and form a protest, as she waved him towards the door.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, Professor?" he answered, as politely as it was possible to be when he was in a horrible a mood as he was currently in.

"You are friends with this Hermione Granger as well?"

He shrugged, "Not really. I _tolerate_ her, and make an attempt at not insulting her since we're living together and all…" _Might as well start now,_ he thought to himself. Saying it out loud almost always made himself believe his own words.

This time however, all he could think of was, _liar, liar, LIAR, **LIAR**! _It was hardly that. He… respected her, and he had to admit he was intrigued by her… but that was about it. It should have been easy enough to admit, considering there was no sexual connotations in there… but even that much was hard to admit to anyone else.

She raised an eyebrow as she digested this bit of information. "Is that so…?" She mused, watching him with those bright silvery eyes, only a shade or two more colorless than his own, making them a shiny silvery sheen over her pupils that was the only hint of color that differentiated from the rest of her eye. She shook her head, "Very well then. If it is as you say, then all should go well. You may go."

He stared at her, startled. "That's it?"

She raised the other eyebrow, "Why yes, Mr. Malfoy, unless you wish me to peg you with a detention with Filch for this evening…?"

"No thanks," he replied shortly, leaving the tiny room as quickly as possible.

It was only later on, after supper was over and done with and he'd dragged himself back to the portrait of Sirius and James, did he see Hermione again, sprawled on one of the large plump couches, a stack of parchment on the circular coffee table in front of her. She looked up from her comfy spot, a piece of parchment in the one hand, a cup of hot chocolate in another, and smiled slightly, almost hesitantly. "Hey," she greeted him.

He nodded curtly to her, before she waved the piece of parchment in her hand, "Can you help me sort through these things, please?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"

She frowned at his unfriendly tone, but continued on, "Because Nagini's in detention down in the dungeons for insulting Snape, and you're the only one, other than me, who's left."

"Do it yourself." He turned to go to his own room. He had enough things to do without having whatever those things there were for. Nor did he have any particular reason to help her.

Her frown deepened as he turned his back on her, before she told him sharply, "Too bad Draco love, but we're all working on the Yule Ball _together_." The sarcasm was evident the moment she uttered the word '_love_'.

He whipped around, "_What?_" When had this been mentioned?

She raised an eyebrow, "You weren't listening this morning when they brought it up at the meeting, were you?" she accused, "So you _were_ asleep!"

He glared at her, "Since you're the one who so sure of yourself planning _anything_, go ahead and do it yourself, and do whatever the hell you want to do… and kindly leave me out of it."

"Fine then, Dragon-boy. Go ahead and take your beauty rest and I'll do this _myself_." She then promptly returned to the papers at hand, and ignored him with that frigid atmosphere he knew all too well from previous years spent at the same school with her.

(And someone somewhere sighs and says, "One step forward, ten steps back…")

~*~*~*~

"So… this is a detention?" asked Nagini curiously as she looked around the empty classroom to Harry, who was leaning against the same table she was sitting at. "Was I supposed to bring something?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You haven't ever been given a detention before?"

She shook her head, "Not once. Are we simply supposed to sit here?"

"Until Snape comes, anyway…" Harry muttered. "He'll be here… if only because he loves ordering me around."

"I take it he dislikes you?"

"And how…" muttered Harry, studying a jar of dragon's spleen floating in some bilious green liquid with an expression of distaste on his face."Hates me, more like it."

Nagini shrugged, "Can't have _everyone_ kissing the tips of your sneakers, can you?"

"Yeah." Harry replied shortly, "I just wish he'd hate me more _fairly_."

"I heard that, Potter."

_Figures_, Harry thought sullenly, as he nodded curtly at Snape. "Professor…" He said, acknowledging the Potions Master's entrance.

Nagini watched Snape with cool green eyes, and jerked her head in a nod as well, mimicking Harry out of the corner of her eye, unsure of such customs amongst humans.

Snape waved his hand, and Harry slipped into the seat next to Nagini. "I have a proposition to make."

They sat quietly, staring at him. They were, after all in a detention. What choice did they have in the matter?

"I do not trust either of you as far as I can propel you both with a levitation spell. But now I need to ask the two of you to do something."

"Which would be…?" asked Nagini, frowning in confusion. _Were_ they supposed to be given a choice as to what they were supposed to do in a detention?

He looked at her as he spoke, "You will be working in order to make the most powerful Veritassium ever. The amount we have currently in Hogwarts is insufficient for our needs, so I put you to the task. Seeing as I have so easily roped you into giving a week's attention to the brew, and seeing as you are reputed to a wonderfully gifted student in the study of potions," he said this last with a look that told them both he did not really believe her capable, "you are to start the potion and get as much done as possible while you have this week. Potter shall be your… assistant during the one night he is in here."

"What about Hermione?" Harry burst out before he could silence himself. Then, unable to take his words back, he fixed a challenging look in his eye.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "What about the gossipy little know-it-all?" he asked, as if the point of the question were not even worth his time.

"Why didn't you ask _her about the Veritassium?"_

Snape eyed him coldly, "Potter, I have my reasons. Do not think to question them."

Harry nodded, but the moment Snape walked into his office to open up his own private stores of potions ingredients (that he kept under lock and key since Hermione's second-year visit), he muttered, "_Heil _Hitler."

Even Nagini knew of _that problematic wizard enough to be unable to hold back a smile. _

"I heard that Potter. Keep this up and Miss Whetlyn will have an assistant tomorrow night as well."

Harry made a face, but he shut up.

The work proceeded in excruciating silence, with Snape behind them every moment, his sharp eyes catching whatever mistakes they might make, even before they had even moved a millimeter towards the cauldron, bubbling nicely in front of them.

Nagini was very, very thankful that all those things on her transcript were true… even when one did not have limbs, one can always watch, and considering how long a life span she had had, it would have been impossible not to pick up the technique. Then, when she had taken on her human form, she had been able to practice. Though she was still an incompetent at flying, and most likely would never adapt to ever having her feet leave the ground, she had found early on after her transformation that potion-making, potion-brewing came easily for her.

A sudden whirring in Snape's office distracted all three of them. Snape detached himself from his place behind the both of them, his face sent in a look of dislike. A few minutes later, he exited his small adjacent office with a scowl on his features. "I will be right back… neither of you do anything while I am gone otherwise I will have it tested on the both of you _now. And Miss Whetlyn, I suppose you know the effects of unfinished Veritassium._

Nagini could barely hold back a serpentine hiss, as her eyes became slits, glaring at him as he swept out of the room. Harry was shaking his head beside her, "Don't take it too hard. He treats Hermione like that too…" he glanced up at the clock on the wall, and swore, "And I wanted to make it to Quidditch practice today…" he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow at him, "I _heard_ you played," she commented, in a conversational tone, "Victor Krum was especially impressed, being a Quidditch player as he is."

Harry shrugged modestly, "Yeah… he's really good… I saw him once, three years ago at that World Cup… he was amazing." 

"I hear you are better."

He blinked at her, "Huh?" he asked, completely oblivious to the subtle flattery, "Who told you that?"

"Krum," she lied blithely, attaching a coy smile to her face. Then she abruptly changed the topic. "What is it like being you?"

Harry looked confused, floundering to figure out where the change in subject had come about. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how is it like to be the Boy Who Lived? The youngest Quidditch player in over a century? The boy who defeated the M—Dark Lord every year for the first five years he went to school in Hogwarts?" she finished this last very quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed her slight slip of the tongue… she had nearly referred to him as the Master! That the Potter boy would never have overlooked.

He appeared not to have noticed, but he did look a trifle bitter, "You didn't continue." He told her flatly, and she was taken aback. She had always thought Harry Potter would be arrogant, but since she'd met him, he'd shown no outward signs of such. What had brought this about? Then he continued to talk.

"You didn't mention I was also the Boy Who Goes Home to a Family Who Despises Him and Forces Him to Shovel Cow Manure in the Garden Every Afternoon… or the Boy Who Wasn't Family Enough to find out the Truth about His Parents' Death. Or maybe even the Boy Who Didn't Know He Was a Wizard." 

Nagini looked just the slightest taken aback. "What sort of home life is this?" she demanded, "What sort of people are your… relatives…?" she asked, trailing off as she realized she knew nothing of human home lives besides that of the Death Eaters' occasional stay at the Master's manor, and they certainly did not talk much to her about it. It was mostly because they couldn't understand her. Not many people could understand serpent tongue; the only one she had ever known to have the gift was the Master himself.

He shook his head, "Family."

There was a point in everyone's life that one simply _couldn't_ handle the idea of being alive without those of his own blood near him. So as much as he had hated them in the past, and hated all the things they'd done to him, he couldn't simply abide the idea of leaving them for once and for all. His mother might have been able to do it, but then, his Gran had still been alive at that time… there was no one else to turn to as family other than Vernon's sister, and he could stand being on opposite sides of the country from her for the rest of his natural life. The Dursleys had never accepted him. Then again, he had never really expected them to. They would have been perfectly happy just to see him leave them forever and possibly to see a letter sent to them telling them of his death. They would probably throw a party for that. 

But Harry wanted, above all other things, _family_. Nothing could come close to the real thing, he'd realized not too long ago. Not even Molly Weasley, no matter how hard she tried, could take the place of _real family._

So that was why he'd went back last summer, despite Dumbledore's assurances that, at the very most he might stay a month at the school. For the first time in his life, with the loss of Sirius still fresh in his mind, he _wanted to go back_.

The Dursleys hadn't been happy to accept him back of course, but things were not as tense as they could have been. There had been an attack on the house just that previous summer… and it had not been aimed at Harry, but at Petunia Dursley. Dumbledore's idea that it might be Petunia's blood that kept Harry safe had somehow been found out, and the other side had thought to remove the source.

They'd failed. They hadn't known Harry had been in the house at the time, but he'd managed, somehow, to surprise them. And by that time, he had already been adept enough at using Stunning spells to take on the two Death Eaters. Only because he'd had the element of surprise on hand. He'd been let off easy that time by Fudge, when he'd been faced again with the charges of flouting the Underage Wizard Decree of Something of Other. But since then, Petunia and even Dudley had started looking to him whenever something strange had come up on the news, waiting for some sort of reassurance that that had nothing to do with the wizarding world. 

Uncle Vernon was still unable to think up any other solution than to simply throw Harry out of the house. But Petunia would not have that; especially because doing so would place his blood on her hands should he be killed.

Nagini stared at him. Then, "So Hogwarts is your escape then."

He shrugged. "You could say that… I wouldn't be able to live with them for that long for an entire stretch but… I don't want to just _leave_ anymore…"

Especially after Sirius. He'd built up too many hopes of leaving over the years. And now… it would mean _change. And he didn't want anything else to change in his life, except, obviously, for this God-forsaken __war to end._

"What are you going to do once you get out of school? You would have lost the only place to escape to…" she made her face look suitably sincere, but behind that, she thought to herself, _not that you'll ever even _make_ it to Graduation… I'm here to see to that personally…_

She paused, as the pain in her chest blossomed out into a blazing inferno of white hot pain. It was worse, so much worse than Cruciatus… it was like someone was taking her body and burning her from the inside out… it hurt like nothing else she had ever experienced. She couldn't hold back a ragged moan as she collapsed forwards, the slimy feel of internal organs of some kid smearing on her face as she writhed, clutching her chest.

Harry leaped to his feet instinctively, "What happened? Nagini!" he yelled louder and louder in increasing panic.

She couldn't answer him… her voice was lost as her throat constricted, and she gagged, trying to breathe, her tongue lolling out in her desperate attempt to breathe, but unable to force oxygen to her lungs. Her chest was on fire…

Harry looked close to panicking as he swore, looking around for Snape, and finding him still gone.

_Oh Lord and Lady… someone… _help me_… she thought desperately as she struggled against the horrible pain burning through her body. There were spots of black in the edges of her vision. _Master!_ Her mind cried out, futilely since she knew better than any that the Master could only know the thoughts of one person, and that was this boy right next to her, trying to keep her from falling off her chair to the ground._

"Oh God, come on…" he finally said, when he had run out of all options left to him, he scooped her up into his arms, struggling for a few moments to get a good enough grip on her convulsing body while maintaining some shred of decency. Then he rushed out of the room with her, bracing himself against her weight. But she was not heavy… not that he had ever carried a girl in his arms before, but he had never expected one to be so… _light_.

With that, he began the long trek to the Hospital Wing with the dark-haired lamia [1] in his arms.

~*~*~*~

It was a long time after when Draco awoke, and he found himself staring blearily up at a glaring face directly in front of his own. He jerked backwards immediately, slamming his head against the headboard as he did so, causing stars to erupt before his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear them away. "Daisy, what the _hell do you think you're doing?"_

She glared at him, "Get up."

Sulkily, almost reverting completely back to a spoiled little boy, he set his lip, "No."

"We have _work to do, Draco baby." She told him, tacking on the endearment as a source of sarcasm._

"I told you—"

She cut him off before he could finish, "I'm not going to argue with you over the matter. Get up, Draco Malfoy, or I'm going to make you."

He raised an eyebrow, "And how do you propose to do this?" he drawled, "_Drag me?"_

She frowned, momentarily perplexed, looking around his room, as if in thought. Suddenly, she caught sight of his clothes lying in a heap on a chair quite close to his bed. She also caught sight of a pair of black silk boxers lying on top of that heap of clothes. An mischievous grin immediately appeared on her face? Did she _dare? Well, there was always a bluff. "I don't _have_ to, you know…" she said slowly, the grin broadening, "But I think I _will_ take this blanket with me…"_

Draco's jaw immediately dropped as he realized what she meant. _She… she…_ was all that he could get through his mind, before he forced a smirk on his face. "You don't have the guts, Daisy." But he grabbed a handful of blanket just in case.

She was taken aback for a moment, before she noticed his hand snake out and snatch hold of the blanket. She grinned, "Never, ever say something like that to me, Draco." She told him airily, yanking hard at the blanket.

~*~*~*~

End of Chapter. A cliffhanger? Nah, you all know it isn't. After all, you can all just imagine what's under that blanket… *sigh* *drools* REVIEW ME!

[1] A lamia is a snake-woman, or a woman who can become a serpent at will. Ancient mythology specifies of priestesses drinking draughts 'prescribed' by the god Apollo himself to be able to change. In here, I made good ol' (bad ol') You-Know-Who the guy who does the spell casting.


	7. Chapter 06

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Six

Koneko-chan says!

Hi again, and sorry I left it there… I was hoping to upload, and I got online… then I couldn't upload 'cause the school computers screwed up my disk. Then I had to wait till I got home, and then I was in such a rush, I don't know what the hell I did, but I uploaded as quickly as I could. Sexy^Å^'s probably gonna kill me, but that's okay. You all lived. Hermione acts a little (and I mean **a little**) devilishly, and Draco has to endure it. Continue reading if you want! I'm doubtful it'll turn NC-17 (especially when I'm only fourteen and my parents would kill me if they found out) but if I get one of my friends, maybe Sexyangel^Å^ herself to do it! She doesn't have the same scruples as I do! (Though sometimes I wonder if that's a good thing…) Oh and, guess what? I have **three** new muses! (*shrugs* So I'm very greedy.) Let me introduce them!

*gorgeous purple velvet curtains open to a stage and the lights flare on. In the center, in the spotlight is the chibi, ultra kawaii chibi-Relena!*

Chibi-Relena: *smiles cutely* Hajinimashta!

Crowd: *in unison* Awwwww…

Stefani: *wearing a sparkling sequined gown like Vanna White* *poses* Ladies and gentlemen, our one and only Chibi-Relena!

Chibi-Relena: *smiles and waves some more*

Stefani: And next up… our own wonderful Heero-chan!

*drumroll*

*nothing happens*

Stefani: *clears throat pointedly*

*nothing happens*

Stefani: *abandons pose and stomps towards the wings of the stage, heads up the stairs where, of course, Heero is standing at the balcony watching Relena* *drags him down* *pulls him on the stage* *resumes pose*

Heero-chan: Omae o korosu. *clicks safety off gun*

Stefani: *glares*

Heero-chan: *glares back*

Stefani: *wishes she'd shoved her muse in a CHIBI Heero*

Chibi-Relena: *pouts* *glares* *snaps fingers* 

***POOF***

Chibi-Relena: *is now life-size Relena* *glares at Heero-chan* Heero… *warningly*

Heero-chan: *puts gun away and manages to still look empty-faced while Relena has her arm in his as she waves to the crowd*

Crowd: Awww! * crowd has no memory, never remembers one or more of them would be shot by one half of the adorable couple a few seconds ago*

Stefani: And now, last but not least, our own wonderful Nanashi!

*drumroll*

Nanashi: *walks out* …

Stefani: *sweatdrops* Er… okay, well uh, LET'S GIVE A HAND TO MY WONDERFUL MUSES!!!!!!!!

Crowd: …

Someone In The Back: SHOW US HOW GOOD THEY ARE!!

Relena: *grabs Heero-chan's gun* *shoots jellybeans at SITB* *calmly hands it back*

Stefani: …

Stefani: ON WITH THE SHOW!

~*~*~*~

"Wanna bet?" she reached down and yanked, throwing them away from him to display him in all his naked glory. She raked her eyes up and down his body with an upturned lip, in an undeniable smirk. "Big boy, aren't you?" He grabbed the bedsheets and flung them back over him, covering him. He could tell his cheeks were turning red. "What the—what the hell was that for Granger?!"

"Tit for tat. Now we're even."

"I never ripped your clothes off!" But the mental picture for **that** was a little too much at the wrong time and he turned shades of red he never knew existed. Thank god his body hadn't given him away just yet…

"No, but you embarrassed the shit out of me, and you saw me close enough to it… what's wrong? Ashamed of what God gave you?" her smirk grew even wider. He felt himself turning even redder. What the hell was wrong with her? This was not the same girl he'd known last year at all! That Hermione Granger had been a plain, smart-ass, know-it-all, prude of a girl! What had happened over the summer?!

She grinned at his confused expression. "Don't worry 'Draco-baby', that didn't mean anything at all… but I warn you, if you don't show up in our common room in two minutes, I'm walking back in with my wand in my hand… And you don't want to know what kind of curses I've been reading up on this summer." She disappeared out of his doorway in a billow of Hogwarts robes, shutting it behind her.

Draco found himself alone in his room again, to stare at the door, and again wonder what happened to that girl over the summer. Other than become such a knockout that he'd looked more than twice at her. Cutting into his thoughts, a little counter suddenly appeared in front of him, counting backwards from 1 min. 45 seconds.

It took less than 20 seconds for him to grab something and wrench it on. In Granger's new state of mind, he didn't want to think of what she was planning… on the other hand, he wondered what she **could** do to him. And shivered deliciously in spite of himself at the thought. _Dammit, what is **wrong** with me?!_ he yelled at himself mentally as he pulled on the white shirt. _It's GRANGER after all! A Muggle. A nobody. A girl who's done nothing but be a thorn in my side for the last six years!_ '10 more seconds! 10 more seconds!' the little timer floating above his head made him focus back on the annoying little pixie-like thing and he bolted for the door.

"Ding, ding, ding." commented Hermione wryly looking up from her comfortable position, curled up like a cat on the large sofa, which she'd taken for herself. Crookshanks, who'd remained invisible (or so it seemed) for the last few days, appeared, purring, cuddling up to her stomach and eyes looking at the papers spread out before her.

Draco dropped down into one of the one-seaters and glared at her. "What do you want me to do?"

"What I want has nothing to do with it. You're going to have to work with me while we wait for Nagini to come back from Potions."

"Right." He sighed, there was nothing he could do right now anymore so he settled in as she handed him a stack of parchment. "Read through those… those are comments from students about previous Yule Balls… what we can do to improve, what we can throw out… blah, blah, blah." She rolled her eyes and returned to reading whatever it was she was doing, mumbling things to herself as she jotted down things with a sparkly blue pen. Yes a 'pen', one of those Muggle things he'd seen in his 'visit' to London, as well as a pad of 'paper', not parchment and quill. And as he watched, it looked much more convenient. She must've noticed him watching her write because she gave him a wry smile, reached into her bag and tossed him a pen and notepad. The pen was not sparkly, he noticed with relief and he nodded his appreciation. She turned back to her work, stroking Crookshanks at odd moments when she was less distracted.

He went back to work… _'The last Yule Ball reeked! This year, add some more spice in it. Don't get those hags to play the music! Bring in some Muggle artists!'_ Draco looked at the piece of parchment for in disbelief, then shook his head, snorting in derision. "How pathetic can you get? Muggle artists?! Oh, Dumbledore'll go for that no problem!"

"Not as bad as this, listen. 'Convince Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to strip as the main event.' As if!"

"Not likely **anyone** will be watching me make a fool of myself onstage. Tell them to forget it."

"May I ask how you plan to do that?" she asked smirking delicately.

"Oh just burn the damn thing." She grinned as she crumpled it up and chucked it at the fireplace. It landed dead center. "TWO POINTS!" she crowed before noticing his blank look. "Excuse me?"

"Basketball."

"Which would be…?"

"Oh forget it," she waved it away as if it were nothing. "It's nothing important."

"I see…"

She went back to her notes, and Crookshanks jumped down from the couch, stretched luxuriously and waddled to Hermione's bedroom. "Stay off my bed Crookshanks, 'kay?" called Hermione towards the bedroom without looking up. 

"MEOW!"

"Thanks baby!" she called back before falling silent again. The only sound was the barely heard sliding of her ballpoint pen on paper. Draco went back to work… the watch Hermione was wearing ticked the seconds, the minutes, the hours away, as they worked.

"That's **it**!" he finally yelled, throwing his pen down. He had a cramp in his right hand, a full notebook of notes, and a seemingly never-ending stack of parchment, half of which was scattered all around him. He ran a hand through his mussed white-blond hair, and picked up the still-giant stack of parchment and let it "thwump" to the ground. He dusted off his hands with an air of finality.

Hermione looked up with barely veiled amusement. "Good job Draco. You have succeeded in making a bigger mess than I could credit even my wardrobe back home."

"Any more of that, and you're going to hurt badly."

"Oh really? Come on then, I'm waiting to see what you can do." She smiled in such a way that he shivered despite himself. What was she planning? She smiled reassuringly at his uncomfortable look, "I'm just playing you, Malfoy. Forget about it." she stood up, stretching and yawning. "I'm making for the bathtub. You enter my bathroom, I'll hex you into next year." She threatened before walking towards her room, where her own private bathroom was. Draco was left in their common room, all alone wondering what had spawned **that**. With a shrug, he reentered his bedroom. He'd been rudely interrupted from his nap. This time, he chose to sleep in his boxers, just in case Hermione decided to pay another unannounced visit. The memory of that smirk on her lips made him shiver despite himself. _Whoa, whoa, no blood flow down there, okay? Granger's a Muggle, and I won't waste any of my little guys over a chick like her._

With that, the untroubled (yeah right) Slytherin slipped into uninterrupted sleep. And the Gryffindor Head Girl relaxed in her huge porcelain bathtub, reading. All was silent in the Head Students sector… for now.

~*~*~*~

"Hey, you're all right, aren't you?" asked Harry as he literally had to shift almost all her weight on his own shoulder. "Do I… look… okay?" she managed to gasp between the hacking coughs. One hand seemed to be clutching her forearm in pain, but he couldn't see what in the world she was holding, since it was covered by the sleeve of her robes. Other students had appeared in the halls to witness the sight, but most had melted back into the walls (not literally) and other who asked were politely refused of their help. What else could they do, hold Nagini's hand and coo, "Oh, you'll be all right, you're gonna be fine…?" 

Harry was convinced something was wrong with his eyes, because as he watched, he almost thought he saw the vertical-pupils of a serpent when he stared at her eyes. And they were **really** nice eyes, he noted almost absently as they ambled towards the Hospital Wing like some deformed troll. "_This can not be happening,_" whispered Nagini through her dry throat between coughs, forgetting human speech in those few painful moments. What would happen at the hospital wing? They might find the traces of the Dark Lord's spell on her, and reveal who she was! That couldn't happen… not now when she had been able to enter this school, and found the Chamber of Secrets.

"_It's happening, but you'll be fine, don't worry."_ The words were hissed in her own familiar serpent tongue, and her eyes jerked open as she immediately looked for whoever had spoken. There was no sign of tail or scale of any snake around her in the corridor. Then who had spoken…? Was it… was it Harry Potter?

She looked up at his face suddenly, as if she could discern it from his face. He looked confused at her face, "What?" he asked, uncomfortable under her stare. "You shouldn't worry too much about all this." He didn't know when he spoke serpent tongue! Nagini had the few moments to wonder whether she should be ecstatic that she'd found one other who knew her own, dear tongue, or to be enraged that this boy had all the gifts the Original Four had prized before the coughing came over her again.

What was wrong with her? Could there be something wrong with the spell, some horrible side affect that the Dark Lord had failed to inform her of?

__

*Nagini!*

The girl's head snapped up again as she looked for the sound of the voice she had suddenly heard, echoing in her ears. Was it her master's?

__

*Nagini. Get to the Chamber of Secrets if you wish to stay alive. You will not last much longer if you don't.*

The words were matter-of-fact, unemotional. Nagini stumbled to a stop, looking wildly at where they were. They were only a few corridors to the Hospital Wing. If she should go in, she would most certainly be found out. Summoning whatever supernatural strength she had, she flung herself away from Harry's strong arms that were supporting her and rushed in a mad dash towards the girl's bathroom, luckily nearby where the opening to the Chamber was [1]. She just hoped he wasn't so worried that he would follow her in to make sure she was all right. She had to enter it quickly! Quickly, she passed Moaning Myrtle's toilet, ignoring the ghost's wails, and made for the sink.

"_Open!_" her voice full of urgency, she rushed into the headlong dive downwards as the wall closed in behind her, cracked plaster and chips of porcelain from the already-broken sink coming back together behind her. Landing on her hands and knees, she gasped for breath as the coughing immediately stopped, the immense magic of her ancestor, the Great Basilisk still present in this place of magic, even when the snake itself was long gone. The pile of snakeskin that had been shed by her ancestor, lay there still, preserved as if time could never touch it. Shaking, she crawled towards it, enfolding herself in the layers of old scales, ten times larger than her own and she felt calmer. What had happened? Why had she been coughing like that? What was wrong with her?

"Oh my **god**!"

Her head jerked up as she saw Harry's face in the surrounding gloom of the place. "Nagini, what are you **doing**?"

"I…" For a moment, she was at a loss for words. What could she say? "How did you… how did you **know** about this place, Nagini?"

"I…" she repeated, wriggling out of the snakeskin, and onto her own two feet.

"She's a lamia, Mr. Potter." Harry whirled to face Professor Dumbledore standing behind him. "Professor!" he gasped.

Nagini felt her blood run cold. How did he know? How had he realized it? 

As if he had read her mind, Professor Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "Do you not think I recognize a transfiguration spell when I see one, Miss Whetlyn? Of course, the one who **cast** the spell is what I am concerned about…" he frowned, and Nagini tensed herself for whatever this old man could throw at her. Even when he was in the seat of power, her master had never dared to face off against this man… why?

"How… how did you…?" she managed to say.

"I can see many things, Miss Whetlyn. I can also see something in you that I don't believe you can see for yourself. That is the only reason I allowed to enter this school at all."

"Professor, what's a lamia?" asked Harry, who had been forgotten momentarily by Nagini. She bit her lip as the Professor informed him. If things turned out the way she was expecting them to from the way things were going, she would never be able to bring this boy to her master!

"A lamia is a snake in a woman's form or vice versa. Miss Whetlyn here is an example of snake to woman. Her sire I believe is the same Basilisk that Slytherin himself kept in this very chamber.

"So you mean… I killed her dad." Harry's words were hollow as he looked from Nagini to the pile of snakeskin on the ground near her.

Dumbledore, unable to tell the boy anything different, nodded. "Yes, Harry." With a swift movement, Harry had ran for the entrance to the Chamber, pulling out his wand and with the words of a levitation spell, disappeared from view of both Nagini and Dumbledore.

"Why… why did he…?" whispered Nagini as she watched him disappear from sight.

"You should go after him, Miss Whetlyn. Explain some more." Nagini gave the Headmaster one long look, a look of vast wonderment before she had sprinted for the entrance, disappearing upwards as well. 

"HARRY! WAIT!"

Dumbledore, still in the Chamber smiled softly, "I believe she has a chance."

~*~*~*~

"Daisy! Hey Daisy!" a loud knocking on her bathroom door made her look up in annoyance. Why did someone have to bother her right when she was taking a bath? And from the sound of it, it was the dratted Malfoy at her door.

"What?" she called back, irritably. All she could think of at the moment was all her bubbles popping way without her relaxing among them. "Hurry it up and come out already!" yelled back Draco, apparently in a hurry. "I'm still in the bathtub you idiot, what, do you think I'm insane?!"

"I'll think about that one and get back to you, but I just heard from some Second Year that Nagini's been in the Chamber of Secrets!" he said through the door of the bathroom.

"WHAT?!" Hermione turned cold with fear as she remembered her own narrow escape with the Basilisk that had lurked in that Chamber. She leaped out of the bathtub, spraying water all over the bathroom floor in her haste as she snatched her towel and appeared in the doorway, the white terrycloth towel wrapped snugly around her. A little too snugly it seemed.

Draco's eyes immediately zeroed in on her still-wet and dripping body before slowly looking back up at her face. A disapproving face. "Draco, if staring at me wide-eyed is all you can do, I've got a bubble bath waiting for me. "No, it's true Daisy. Potter just ran past the corridor portrait swearing enough to make a sailor's mother proud. And Nagini wasn't too far behind, chasing him and yelling something else… I couldn't hear what they said though." He paused.

Hermione waited to hear whatever he had to say, dripping even more water onto the floor as she did so. She reached backwards for a towel to dry her hair… it didn't look like she'd be in her bathtub any longer. "Well, do you think we should look for them?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Whoa, Draco am I hearing things? **You** want to help Harry?"

"No, I want to find out what the hell Nagini was doing in the Chamber of Secrets and why the hell she's chasing Potter. Besides, you can comfort Wonder Boy and I'll 'comfort' Nagini."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I knew you had another motive." She turned away, "Well if you'll wait for me, I'll be out in five minutes—hey!"

The "hey" was because she had inevitably slipped on the soaking wet floor. Instinctively grabbing Draco for support, she found a moment too late that he was standing on slippery wet linoleum as well and he fell as well.

"OOF!" they fell crashing to the ground, Draco landing on top of Hermione rather ungracefully and more like a stack of bricks on her. "Ow!" she opened her eyes to find that his hand at cushioned her head from the floor to prevent her brains from splattering all over the already-wet floor. Only then did she notice just how close he was to… her… face…

Draco found himself unable to move, not even able to roll off her. For no reason at all, he couldn't move away from her… her eyes were wide as he stared down at the big chocolate-brown eyes that looked up at him through thick lashes. As if by a magnet, he found himself being pulled inexorably closer to her…

__

NO! **NO!** STOP GRANGER, DON'T **EVEN** GO THERE! Common sense literally jumped up and down on her brain, trying to make her shove him off, push him away, turn her head from his face. But something else seemed to beat down on Common Sense shouting gleefully, _I DON'T CARE!!!_

Swiftly, she closed the gap between their lips, sealing his with her own. Her eyelids felt so incredibly heavy as she did so, and she was unable to keep them open to see his reaction. Giving in, she let them drop as he didn't pull away, but continued kissing her, enough to open in his mouth and let his tongue travel to her lips, stroking them gently before entering her mouth, claiming it.

"Oh my **GOD**!" Both Draco and Hermione's eyes flew open and they jerked apart and looked up to see…

Ron Weasley.

Draco groaned mentally, Weasel Boy had to have to worst timing imaginable! Wait… that was a good thing right? He would have stabbed himself with his own wand if he'd let himself take that Muggle Granger! With a strangled growl, her pushed himself off the floor, swearing at his dripping wet clothes. "Great. Nagini's gonna to be halfway across the school by now."

"R-Ron! How did you get in here?!" stammered Hermione, embarrassed in her half-dressed state. "That girl let me in. The Slytherin." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at Draco's attempts to wring the water out of his shirt, and failing miserably. "And what's **he** doing in **your** bathroom."

"He came to get me, and we uh, fell."

"And your lips broke his fall, right?" he retorted, as Hermione turned red, but still, she snapped at him, "Don't you start."

Ron took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Look 'Mione, I didn't come here to fight with either you, or Malfoy." He suddenly turned red, "I'll uh, talk with you when you get changed then, okay?"

Hermione smirked before closing the door on both Ron and Draco, "Get a girlfriend."

"I'm working on it." he replied. Draco looked him up and down in his infuriating way before sauntering out of Hermione's room. Ron found himself struck dumb… what the hell had he just seen back there? Hermione? With MALFOY?! He found himself sitting down on a nearby chair and wondering what kind of alternate universe he had stumbled upon.

Draco, in his bedroom, behind his closed door, was literally close to smacking himself. What was **wrong** with him?! What had **possessed** him to kiss Granger? A filthy Mudblood at that! And damn, he had **liked** it! He fell backwards onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't wanted to come all the way down to **this**. All he'd wanted to do was have a safe spot waiting for him on either side, depending on who won this pathetic 'war'. He pulled himself up, and forced himself to walk into his bathroom. He needed a shower. A **cold** shower.

~*~*~*~

Nagini, was lying on her own bed. And she was experiencing something new. Tears. There were tears coming from her eyes, sliding down her cheekbones as she stared up at the ceiling. Why? Why should she care what Potter thought? Was it because it was going to be near impossible to kill Potter with her secret out? Was that it?

She turned herself over. She'd given up running after him. She still wasn't coordinated enough to run that well, with these legs, and she couldn't change into a snake under any cost. He'd left her far behind, being an athlete. Where did this leave her? Slowly, she sat up, and wiped away the tears. She couldn't do this. She was the right-hand serpent of the greatest Dark Sorcerer since Slytherin himself! She couldn't fail him like this! She couldn't become human like all the rest of them!

She stood up, and walked towards the portrait hole with a grim look on her face. Being Head Girl, she knew the passwords of every portrait hole allowed to students in the school. And there was only one place where Harry Potter could be. In his dormitories, in the Gryffindor chambers behind the portrait of the Fat Lady…

She smiled, light glinting off the pointed canines she had… similar to Professor Sa Lai's, but much **much** better disguised. The professor didn't have to care. She on the other hand, had a job to do.

~*~*~*~

Hermione finished doing up the buttons to her cloak with trembling fingers… what had just happened? Had she really and truly kissed Draco Malfoy, jerk extraordinaire? It didn't seem possible… but just the thought of the feel of his lips on her made her feel all trembly and tingly all over. What in the world was wrong with her? She could have pushed him off her, apologized and then have acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing **would** have been out of the ordinary if she hadn't done that! What would Ron think? What would Harry think? What would the entire **school** think?!

Finally, taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and stepped out to see Ron sitting there, watching her closely. "What did you want to talk about?"

"About… well… 'Mione, I wanted to apologize for, you know, blowing up at you earlier… I didn't mean to say all those things. But just the **thought** of one of my best friends being hurt by that… **jerk** is enough to drive me insane… d'you know what I mean?"

Hermione nodded, a little sadly, "I know **exactly** what you mean."

Ron looked up, rather shy all of a sudden, "So… d'you forgive me? I mean for hitting you and everything?" Hermione rubbed the back of her head ruefully, "Well, I **did** slap you… and Nagini did too… so I'd say we're even… as long as you don't KO Nagini too." she told him half-warningly, half-jokingly. Ron gave her a wry smile, "I said I was sorry, 'Mione."

"And I told you, you were forgiven." She quipped, before hugging the redheaded boy that had been her friend for over six years and counting. He turned red instantly, and she looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" then she looked down. She pulled away, "Damn, you don't notice much, do you?" she asked rather sarcastically. 

"Er…" she sighed, reaching up and patting him on the head like a dog. "Poor, poor Ronald Weasley… can't even manage to look at one of his best friends without blushing… how on **Earth** are you going to catch a girl?"

"Well… I, uh, **did** have someone in mind to ask to the Yule Ball and all but… you know, the robes and everything…" he turned red. Hermione grinned, "You're talking to a Head Girl remember? Don't worry, you've got it made."

Ron blinked, "Huh?"

"The Head Students are planning the Yule Ball, dumbkof."

"Right…" it finally dawned on him and he grinned. 'RIGHT!"

"Any ideas? I was thinking something formal, but that's a little on the costly side…"

Ron on the other hand positively glowed, "Muggle clothes? You mean like the stuff Dad sometimes shows us in that 'magfine' thing right?"

"That's 'magazine'."

"Right, right… those things?"

"Are you thinking GQ?"

"I dunno… am I?" he asked, rather confused and she making him even more confused. She shook her head, "So you go for it. I don't know if anyone else would go for the idea… especially people who don't really care for Muggles…" 

"You'll manage, 'Mione, you always have."

"Thanks…" he exited quickly after that, and she could see the tips of his ears were red with embarrassment for having been 'mushy' as he put it. Complimenting a girl when you're a guy sometimes seems that way to a guy. Guys can be weird. (So can girls, but for now, that's not important.)

~*~*~*~

"_Monoceros_." said Nagini as she stood before the Fat Lady. The woman in the portrait stared down at her suspiciously. "You're not a Gryffindor, are you?"

"No. I'm Slytherin. But I'm Head Girl and I need to talk with Harry Potter."

"What are you planning?" asked the woman, still suspicious. Nagini felt a spark of annoyance. Did being in different houses **really** matter so much?

"I want to apologize to him." Grudgingly the portrait swung open, and she stepped in, sudden feeling completely alien in the Gryffindor common room. All talk suddenly ceased as eyes turned to the intruder. Coolly, she asked anyone who might answer, "Where is Harry Potter?"

No one answered and she frowned. "Is he not here?"

"Why d'you want him?" asked a sixth-year girl with short, cropped red hair.

"I want to apologize for something Professor Dumbledore said to him."

"He's in the boys' dormitories. Stair to the left." Seamus finally gave up the secret, remembering her from the 'scuffle' with Ron and Hermione in the hallway. She didn't seem **that** bad… for a Slytherin. Thanking him, she walked up the spiraling staircase towards the large room with the multiple beds everywhere. Harry sat on one of them, staring moodily at a book.

"Harry?" she asked softly, suddenly shy… how could she talk to him without giving anything away? He already knew more than he should have.

He looked up at once, staring at her. "How did you get in here?"

She smiled wryly, "I'm Head Girl. I know the passwords to every locked door in this school… that students are allowed in that is."

He pushed the book, a photo album she noticed, off his lap and he stood, "Ah, I'm er, sorry about what happened back there… you in the Chamber…"

"No. I'm sorry." Nagini sat down on a chair on the side of his bed, facing him. "I'm sorry that you had to find out my… secret."

"About your, er, dad?" he asked almost painfully as he stared down at the album in his hands. "My parents were killed by Voldemort—I mean You-Know-Who and I thought… nothing could be worse than not knowing anything about my folks. But I did the same thing to you…" the images of his parents long dead still waved at him merrily and had to look away.

"You did exactly right."

He looked up startled at her conviction. "You did exactly right," she repeated, "because my sire would've killed you in an eyeblink. I've probed the memories of the Chamber and all I've found are sickening images of death and pain and torture." She had been torn when they'd flowed into her mind. One half of her felt her blood sing as she heard the screams, the horror-filled looks on their faces… but the other half had abhorred it, wanting to erase those memories from her mind.

"But that doesn't mean…"

"Harry Potter, you are a wonder."

"E…excuse me?"

"You are nothing like I expected when I came here. I thought you would be a pompous, egotistical celebrity flaunting your fame everywhere. And I find you completely different. You even feel sorry for killing the Basilisk because he was my sire. Why are you like this?"

"Er…" he didn't seem to know what to say as he turned rather red, "'Cause I know what it's like not knowing you are and not having family… I didn't want it to happen to someone else."

Nagini smiled, rather faintly. "Well then… do you forgive me? For being a… lamia?"

"The school forgave me for being a Parseltongue, I think I can forgive you for being what you are." he smiled, holding out his hand towards hers. She blinked and glanced at it for a few moments before realization hit her and she slowly placed her hand in his. She found herself smiling… his eyes had never looked so green until that moment… She shook her head, she had a job to do. Smiling tightly, she stood. "I must be going… Hermione and Draco will be waiting for my help in planning for the Yule Ball."

Harry gave her a small smile. "Er, bye then… I'll see you… in class." Nagini nodded and disappeared into the hall, and he could barely hear the swish of her robes on the smooth-paneled wood of the floors as she descended the stairs.

Only when she had left did he wonder why she hadn't panicked at You-Know-Who's name like almost everyone he knew. Was she not scared of him?

~*~*~*~

End of chapter. I'm done this chapter! Woohoo! Now all I have to do is think up an ending… it's dragged on for a while hasn't it? Ah well, keep reading and waiting. Read my muse fic, I like it. And if you liked the dialogue in the author's notes, read my Majora's Mask fic. Just check out my bio, you'll find it. Love you all lots! Ja ne!

[1] Where is this bathroom by the way? No idea? Good, neither do I.


	8. Chapter 07

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Seven

Koneko-chan says!

Stefani: Hi again!

Nanashi: …

Stefani: *shoves elbow in Muse's side*

Nanashi: Hello.

Stefani: *smiles* Better. *side whisper* I need to work on his people skills.

Nanashi: …

Stefani: *sigh* Anyway, this is the next chapter! Hopefully something will come out of it! *glares pointedly at Nanashi*

Nanashi: *reads off a small cue card* *blandly* And now on with the show.

Stefani: *sighs again* I pity whoever dates Trowa Barton.

Nanashi: …

Stefani: And another piece of news. Angel has refused to do the lemon a few of the people who emailed me requested for. She says I should do it myself. Then she goes and sends me several of _her_ more… exotic fics. Wow… the girl's the same age as me (15), and she's never had sex. And still she manages to write a lemon. Well, I have to admit since she usually thrusts my head against the computer screen and _makes _me read it… Don't get her.

Nanashi: You went close enough to one in 'Vampiric Sacrifice'.

Stefani: *thoughtfully* True… what do you guys think? Review and tell me!

Nanashi: *blandly* You forgot about the language.

Stefani: *blankly* Huh?

Nanashi: The language in this chapter?

Stefani: *lightbulb* Ohhh! Yeah, about that… er, um, just to assure you, I do _not_ normally go around calling people a ho. This is all for the sake of realism.

Chibi-Relena: How realistic can it be if they're waving around magic wands?

Heero: *picking her up and carrying her out of the room* We're not up yet, remember?

Stefani: *sweatdrop* Um, well, now that _that's_ all settled and done, continue reading! *walks out grumbling*

~*~*~*~

Draco couldn't sleep. He had originally opted to go and look for Nagini and watch whatever was going on between Potter and the girl, but she'd appeared back into the dormitory for awhile, left and come back. When she'd found that they were finished with working on the Yule Ball for the day, she'd nodded gravely, apologized for being absent, and took refuge in her room.

And he had been left with nothing to do. So he'd retired to his room as well, seeing as he could do nothing else. And he tried to sleep for lack of anything else to do. Going down to the Slytherin common room did not sound at all appealing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep and completely forget.

Finally, with a groan, he sat up and running a hand through his rumpled white-blond hair he headed for Hermione's room. Might as well explain to her that that kiss had meant _nothing_. She would _not_ be expecting candlelight dinners, or roses, or… or any of the things Muggles or whatever do.

Without knocking he barged in. He never was one for the politeness thing. He found that she had shed the Hogwarts cloak and was dressed in sweats and a tank, lying on the bed, sideways, and a paperback still held limply in one hand. She was asleep, the lamplight shining on her hair that made it that glinting copper color again. He stopped dead in his tracks when she moaned and rolled over slightly, the book finally falling from her grasp and landing with a soft sound on the carpeted floor.

Sighing in relief, Draco came forward a few steps again and looked down at her face. She looked so… vulnerable. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had, just a few hours ago interrupted his own sleep and had… he turned red again just thinking about it. 

"Mmm," the soft fluttery moan from the girl's mouth brought him from his reverie. That tiny sound had the effect a bucket of cold water thrown at him. Suddenly it hit him, where he was, who was in front of him… and he turned to go. "Mmm… don't go…" a sleepy murmur and a soft grasp on his hand stopped him in his tracks again as he turned back to look at the still-sleeping girl.

A small smile flitted once on his lips and he bent down. Pressing a soft butterfly kiss to the back of the hand he held in his own, he placed it back on the bed, and tried, as best to his ability without waking her, to place the blankets on her. The lamp he blew out and he exited the room.

Re-entering his, he wondered what was wrong with him, once again. She was not the type of girl for him! She was the type that would date steady and dependable. He was anything but. Only then did he see the cat lying on his bed, watching his every move. Daisy's cat. Crookshanks, his name was. "What are you doing here?" he asked the cat. He wasn't expecting an answer, and he received none. He sat down on his bed, beside the cat. The cat shuffled over a tiny bit, but continued to stare unblinkingly at Draco Malfoy. It made him uncomfortable. "What?" he asked. A small "meow" made its way out of Crookshanks' mouth as it licked a paw, continuing to watch the young man.

Draco held out a tentative hand towards the cat. It immediately rubbed its head against his hand, the fur amazingly soft to the touch, despite the coarse look of it at first glance. "You're lucky. You can go wherever you want to without being accused of 'fraternizing with the enemy' like Goyle managed to copy from Weasley told me yesterday. You don't have to worry about why the hell you kissed a Muggle girl, and a Gryffindor at that."

The cat flicked an ear. It was listening.

"You're a smart cat."

"It's not a normal cat." He whirled to face Nagini standing at the door, dark hair rather mussed. She looked like she'd been to hell and back. "What're talking about?"

"I said it's not a normal cat… it's one of the most intelligent cats I've ever seen." She knelt down and held out a hand to the cat. It jumped down from the bed and walked slowly towards the girl, eyes suspicious. When it came only a meter away, it stopped and hissed, baring its canines. Nagini narrowed her eyes, and hissed back at him, her more pointed canines showing. The cat leapt back before gave its grudging acceptance and allowed her to stroke him. "He knows I'm a… friend of Hermione's." Draco looked rather confused at the girl, "What was that… thing you just did?" he didn't notice how ridiculous that had sounded until it had come out of his mouth. When he did realize it, it was already too late.

"Thing?"

"The hissing." Nagini straightened. "So you still don't know, Dragon-boy?" And for a split-second, he saw an entity that was thousands of years old, not a normal seventeen-year-old girl. She wasn't all that she seemed.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Nagini shook her head, her arms full of cat as she stroked it. "If you're lucky, you won't ever find out."

With that, she left, feet sliding gracefully out the door. The cat disappeared with her into her room. From the doorway of her room, he heard her voice float through his doorway, "Oh, and don't let her being a Muggle stop you from showing your true colors… people want to truth, Draco."

Draco was left more confused than ever. "Oh bother this!" he muttered, gesturing with his wand towards the door, and it closed with a slam. He then flopped backwards onto his bed and blew out the lamp. He'd fall asleep if it killed him. He then stripped down to his boxers (in case Daisy decided to barge in again) and he crawled into bed. And he dreamed…

__

Slim white hands raked through his perfectly combed hair, mussing it slightly, as he sucked the sensitive skin at her throat gently, his tongue came out to massage the skin further, and he felt a shiver run through her as he pressed her harder against the cold stone wall. Her white school blouse was unbuttoned low enough to tantalize him with just a hint of her cleavage and her short gray skirt was hiked up higher than was decent. He let his hands wander down from the sides of her waist to her ass, his hands tightening as he did so. He switched his attentions from her throat to giving her bruising kisses on her lips, crushing his to hers, his tongue entering hers, claiming it as his own. A soft moan managed to escape from her and he smiled against her lips.

Her hands had wandered to his chest now, and by touch alone, her fingers undid the buttons on his shirt. She began pulling it off his arms, and he complied for the few seconds it took to let the white cotton cloth flutter to the ground before his hands had resumed wandering on her. Hers were now sliding up and down his hard hairless chest. It didn't take much longer for the rest of their clothes to disappear from their bodies and to join the abandoned shirt. And it wasn't much longer before the lamplight lit the sweat gleaming on their bodies and the sounds of their moans could be heard…

Hermione turned over in her bed, hands reaching for the shock of white-blond hair that was appearing in her dreams so frequently nowadays. She uttered another small moan as she rolled over again, lost in her dreams.

__

The feel of his hair through her fingers was wonderful. She'd always loved his hair… there was always such an irresistible urge to run her hands through it. His hands elicited such wonderful shivers from her body as she felt his hands wandering. His kisses were intoxicating, they made her forget everything else...

It wasn't long before their breathing became ragged and uneven, and she felt her heartbeat quicken, as well as his against her chest. And it wasn't long before…

Her eyes snapped open before she could dream up anything else… and she'd awoken to, firstly, a familiar pulsing in the nether regions of her body, and secondly… she wasn't in her bed. The last reason almost made her scream, she was face to face with a still-sleeping Draco Malfoy!

Just as in her dream, her heartbeat raced as she fought frantically to remember how on earth she'd managed to be sleeping next to a guy that had once been her worst enemy, on a couch in their common room. And it was only a few seconds later that _his_ eyes opened wide and there they were, about several centimeters from each other's faces with their arms around each other on a common room couch.

For a second or two, all they could do was stare at each other. Draco had a shocked look on his face before he regained his composure and his said, in his usual drawl, "Daisy, if you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask."

Hermione felt a flash of irritation and she snapped back, "It's not like _you're_ not enjoying it."

"Daisy, you'll realize that with a body like yours, you'd turn _any_ red-blooded male on." A confession rarely made by men in general. But this was Draco, he was as sexy as hell, knew it, and knew whoever else was made of the same caliber. He was also on the little outspoken side as well. Hermione blinked before a small smile crept onto her face, irritation evaporating. "Are you saying I turn you on?" Draco snorted, he was truthful, she had to give him that much credit over the years. "Daisy, you're the kind of girl any guy would fantasize about. I figure you knew that."

All of a sudden, Hermione's face looked rather tired of it all. "If you'd seen me this summer, you would've laughed. There weren't only guys hanging around the front yard, there were a few girls out there too." Draco laughed, "You? A lesbian?"

"I'm NOT!"

"I know." Hermione stopped, "Huh?"

"You were pretty damn responding to that kiss on the floor a while ago." Hermione looked away, just enough to notice something she hadn't noticed before. She had never noticed their were hugging each other. She let him go quickly, but as she did so, she found herself falling off the edge of the couch and only his arms still around kept her from falling completely. He gently set her on the carpet and smiled wryly, "I know I'm going to regret this in the morning but…"

He kissed her. Hermione's eyes flew open in shock, but soon enough, they felt so extremely heavy it was a herculean effort to even look at the face of the boy she was kissing. Apparently kisses and keeping your eyelids open do not work. So she closed them, letting her hands rake through his hair as they had in her dream, his locks silky smooth as his tongue explored her mouth again, intertwining with her own. Finally, when they pulled away from each other, gasping for air as they stared at each other, breathing hard.

"_Damn_ you're a good kisser!" she exclaimed sitting up, before turning red to the roots, "Er… forget I said that." Draco had that 'I'm-bloody-well-sexy-and-I-know-it' smile on his face, "When you have as much practice as I've had…" For some reason, both of them felt loose and free and she mock-frowned at him, slapping his shoulder lightly, "Don't remind me… Draco-baby."

He raised an eyebrow, "For some reason, you sound sexier when you say it than Pansy ever could manage." It was then Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Maybe because I actually wear _clothes_."

"Muggle clothes."

"Your point? I see _you_ don't go stark underneath that cloak of yours, do you?"

"Point well taken."

After that, a conversation that continued with them talking about this or that, until they soon fell asleep leaning against the couch and each other, while sitting on the thickly carpeted floor.

~*~*~*~

And during all this time…

"M-Master? You c-called?" stuttered poor Wormtail, as he stood in the door of his master's sitting room, trembling. "Wormtail. Is Nagini still stationed at Hogwarts?" the words were silky, but there was an undercurrent of raw anger.

"Y-Yes Master."

"Has she reported anything so far?"

"O-Only for the first day or two…"

A muttered curse was uttered before he snapped, "Bring me my wand." The little man raced down the hall before reappearing in the doorway again, gasping. "H-here," he said, holding it out to the man sitting in the chair. Lord Voldemort snatched it out of his grasp, pulling up a sleeve of his black robe. "_Serpentia Rulius_." he hissed, touching the tip of the wand to the black snake tattoo on his forearm. "Now let's she if she answers." He said, eyes glittering.

~*~*~*~

Nagini shuddered in bed as she rubbed her forearm again. The tattoo of a black snake burned into her flesh and not even her visit to the Chamber of Secrets had allowed the fiery brand to cool. Slowly, she withdrew her wand slowly, strangely dreading what she was going to do. This was wrong. Long had she served Lord Voldemort without fear, served faithfully so, and she was guaranteed a perfect place in his Inner Circle. Why then was she this unwilling to reveal information about the castle?

Tightening her lips, she turned to Crookshanks, who was still sitting on her bed, watching her carefully. "_You, little kitty are going to be silent about this all right?_" she asked in serpent-tongue knowing full well that it would understand her. All animals could understand each other.

The voice of the cat, masked as a purr to any outsiders sounded, "_Who are you? You are not Animal, nor are you People._"

"_I am a little of both. Now, you shall have to be ever silent about what I shall do, or else my master will have you turned inside out while you are still alive._" It was a warning, not a threat that she told the cat, and the animal knew it full well. Being around magic users all its life had taught him many things. "_Very well. I will not interfere._" She smiled, "You're a good cat, Mr. Crookshanks, Hermione must love you."

The cat was silent as it watched her. She rubbed her arm once more before muttering a spell word and pointing her wand towards the open fireplace. Then, she tossed a glittering powder into the flames, "My Lord, I am here."

The visage of Lord Voldemort's face appeared in the now green flames. "Why have you not reported back to me yet? What has been happening at that school?"

"Harry Potter is constantly surrounded. I have had very little ability to get close to him. I was chosen to be in Slytherin, which I expected to be placed in, but he is in Gryffindor. A common hatred exists between those of the two houses, though the Headmaster wants to change this."

"There has always been enmity between the two houses. Dumbledore is a fool."

"I believe he suspects. I believe he has told the Potter boy." she revealed to him. To her amazement, a small smile appeared on his sallow lips. "I expected as much. Professor Dumbledore always was a busybody. Very well, attempt to make his knowledge of your secret to your advantage. I have faith you know how."

"Yes, Lord Voldemort."

"That is all. And this time Nagini, do not wait for me to call on you before you give me more information." The flames disappeared with a soft "fwoom". Nagini dropped to her knees as she continued to stare at the fireplace. The ginger-colored cat padded over to her side and climbed into her lap, its fluffy tail brushing against her cheek. "_You are confused._" He meowed to her, watching her through large golden eyes. "_You do not want to harm anyone._"

"_I don't know why… one half of me longs to rip his throat out, glory in the blood dripping between my fangs… and the other half abhors it._" 

The cat wrinkled its nose at the description, but finally said slowly, "_You ask advice of the wrong cat. I love these children, they have been kind to me, especially the girl. I do not want you to harm Harry Potter, but this Voldemort that you speak of is feared by all of Wizardkind. If you choose to face against him… do you have to strength, or the power, to do so?_"

"_My choice has too much impact on the future to take light, Cat._"

"_Then I suggest you think long and hard about it. And talk with Harry Potter some more. He makes up a large part of your choice._" He did not speak again and Nagini sighed, "You're right, Cat. I shall sleep on it and see… for now."

She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling in the darkness. She rolled over onto her side and stared at the dim outlines of the bureau next to her bed. She flopped back onto her back. She sighed, flinging the covers off her and pulling on her dressing gown. Crookshanks sat up from his position at her feet, blinking his eyes sleepily. "_Cannot sleep?_"

"_No. I'm going._"

"_Where?_"

"_I'll find out when I get there._" A purr that sounded suspiciously like a cat-like version of a laugh came from the cat as she went for the bathroom to change. No reason to go out in a dressing gown. She was out in a flash wearing a camisole Hermione had lent her and a pair of drawstring pants. She walked out silently past the sleeping Head Boy and Girl, laughing softly to herself, and exited the portrait.

"Leaving at this time of night? That's against the rules, you know." said Sirius winking at her. She raised an eyebrow in a calculated teasing way, "Are you going to tell on me?"

James interrupted whatever Sirius was going to say, "Have fun! But we won't be back for a long while."

"Neither will I hopefully. Thank you." she replied, walking off. 

~*~*~*~

Harry lay awake, staring out the window at the shred of moon still in the sky. It did not produce much light so most of the room was in shadow. He didn't really care. He was also the only one awake in the entire dormitory. Even Ron was fast asleep, and snoring, half falling off his bed. Harry sighed, turned on his side and stared at the alarm clock that Hermione had charmed to work in Hogwarts for him. _A few more hours until sunrise…_ he thought, groaning in his head and turning back around to face away from the glowing red numbers. Dammit, why couldn't he just go to sleep? It would be so much easier to accomplish not thinking.

"Can you not sleep either?"

He barely kept himself from yelling out loud, as he was startled half out of his wits by a looming shadowed figure over his bed. He grabbed his glasses and put them on, peering at the figure. "N-Nagini? Is that you?" he asked, recognizing her voice.

"Yes."

"You're not supposed to be in here!" he hissed in a whisper.

"You're going to tell the professors that I'm here?" she asked with a wry smile sitting on the edge of his bed. Plainly she wasn't going to leave very soon. He sat up, a pillow behind his back. Her eyes flicked towards his bare torso, his slightly muscled arms, before returning her gaze back onto his face. "You are a Parseltongue." It was a statement, not a question.

"Er, yeah, we established that fact a while ago."

"How does that make you feel?" Harry had the disconcerting feeling of being questioned by Rita Skeeter all over again, especially with Nagini's exceptionally bright and inquisitive eyes in the darkness. "Why?"

"Because… the only Parseltongue I know is…" she paused before continuing, "is the Dark Lord."

Harry looked rather pained, "That's about the thousandth time I've heard that one." Nagini smiled rather distantly, thinking. She had never been good at conversation, and for once, she felt nervous. All things she might have said seemed to simply drain out of her head. "Are you thinking about why I'm here?" she asked all of a sudden, noticing a familiar expression on her face. 

"Well… er… a little, yeah." It wasn't every day—night, that a girl simply walked into the boys' dormitory and sat down on the side of your bed.

"Because… as silly as it might sound to you, Hermione Granger's cat told me to." 

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry… 'Mione's _cat_?"

"Yes… think of it in this way. You are a Parseltongue. You can speak to snakes. I however, _am_ a snake, and in that aspect, I can communicate with other animals. I have a… broader range of understanding and communicating."

Harry's eyebrows rose, "I see."

Nagini shrugged, "And Hermione and Draco are currently… um, sleeping, in the common room so I decided to follow Crookshanks's advice."

"What do you mean sleeping in the common room… oh no, did 'Mione fall for Draco?" asked Harry, holding back a groan. It wasn't that he had a crush on her, far from it actually. But he'd always suspected there was a little something going on between them, even if they themselves hadn't noticed it. He'd dreaded finally finding this out.

"You could say that."

"Did he… you know…" he asked, horrified that he was blushing and her serpentine eyes could see it as clear as day.

"If you mean if he's had sex with her yet, that would be a no. However, they _have_ kissed." Harry looked interested and shifted closer, "_Did_ they?" he asked, eyes glinting in anticipation. It might give him leverage in an argument (which he _knew_ would come up soon enough) if he knew what was going on beforehand.

"Yes. Is there a reason why you are so interested?"

"Mm… probably because 'Mione's one of my best friends in this entire world, and I need to make sure that Draco isn't the self-important bastard we've all known he's been." He told her, after thinking it over thoroughly. It was true to say the least, Hermione wasn't going to be screwed over and embarrassed like some cheap ho.

It was _definitely_ time for a change of subject. "So… you can become a snake right? Sounds cool."

"'Cool'?" she asked, mildly confused with the more current Muggle vernacular. "Er… that sounds like… fun?" he finished weakly, not knowing any other way to put it.

"Fun… well, I must say there are a few things I can do with the lack of limbs than I can now."

"Does being a… lamia, make you walk like that?"

"Like what?"

Harry shrugged, "Like you're gliding over ice."

She cocked her head, licking her canines thoughtfully, "I suppose so… I cannot see how you can walk like… you do. Clumping around like you've got steel-shod boots clamped to your feet…" Harry grinned rather wryly, bringing a hand through his tousled black hair that continually fell messily into his eyes. "Well… some of us are not gifted with the same grace as you… if I tried to walk like that, I'd probably fall down flat on my face." Nagini laughed, before shushing immediately as Ron, in his own bed, mumbled something in his sleep before continuing to snore.

"So… were you born a lamia? A woman who can change into a snake?"

"Actually, it's the other way around with me. I'm a snake that can take the form of a woman. And no, I was born a serpent and only the power of a great wizard gave me the power of becoming… human."

"Ah…"

And so the conversation wore on into the late hours of the night.

~*~*~*~

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, please relieve yourself of your compromising position and listen to me." Professor Severus Snape's voice was the first thing that two of the three Head Students heard when they woke up in their common room. Hermione looked up first into the cool eyes of their doom. "Er… Professor Snape…" she sputtered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and focusing on him. "Er… we uh…"

Draco was more… refined. "We were talking last night… I suppose we fell asleep. I never expected the conversation to last so long…"

"I'm sure. Both of you at my office after your first classes… Now, about the reason I'm here. Where is Nagini Whetlyn?"

Hermione looked confused, "Isn't she in her room?"

"I knocked on the door and no one answered, I opened the door and no one was there except for your cat, Miss Granger." The girl frowned, looking towards the girl in question's room. "I… honestly have no idea then, Professor. She was there last night…"

The next sound they heard was the soft creak of the portrait when it swung open, and Nagini scrambled in, looking rather sleepy. She stopped short when she noticed the professor standing in the middle of their common room. "Was there… something I missed?" she asked, looking from one face to another.

"I was told to take you to see Professor Dumbledore, he told me he had something to discuss with you." He eyed her coolly. "And I suggest you not mention to him that a Head Girl was wandering the halls last night… it would set a very bad example of the Head Students' discipline." He swept out of their common room without another word.

Nagini blinked, before staring after the man, a look that resembled almost fear in her eyes. Hermione stood up, coming closer, "Hey, you okay?" she asked, "You don't look so good."

Draco was being scrupulously ignored as he found himself caught in a girls-only conversation. Standing, he made his way to his own room. _How did I know I would regret this in the morning?_ he thought to himself tiredly, _that was beyond embarrassing… damn that Snape, always there when I don't want him to be._ He found his face turning pink as he remembered waking up back there… he leaned back against the door, sighing. This year was going to be hell and a half if anyone, especially Pansy found out. His blood froze at the thought of it. Not only would she be jealous (something he could handle), but she would also run crying to his father… who was in league with You-Know-Who.

Never in all her many years had she expected to ever confide in a Mudblood. But Hermione Granger was a new girl, of a sort she'd never met. Perhaps that was the reason… she never really had much interaction with the Muggles that were dragged into Lord Voldemort's stronghold to be tortured and executed, she'd watched and observed, bringing news to her master when she could. But now, she found herself revealing her secret, that she was a lamia, to this Muggle girl. And instead of looking as horrified as some who had found the truth of Harry Potter being a Parseltongue, which was what Nagini had expected, Hermione watched and listened with a more and more keen interest. "A _lamia_!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh that is so exciting! How on earth did you manage it?"

"A… wizard helped me… gave me power…" she said hesitantly. This was the dangerous part of her story, she couldn't allow anyone to know who the wizard was. Hermione shrugged, figuring from Nagini's expression that she had a secret. Hermione was perfectly accepting of secrets kept from her… usually.

"Well then, you'd better get to Dumbledore and find out what's the matter. He's a good Headmaster… a little eccentric, but a good wizard. You probably don't have to worry too much."

Nagini nodded, before a rather sly smile (that doubly did it's intended job from her being a serpent) appeared on her face. "Then, while I whisk myself off to the great unknown that is my doom, I expect you have some… talking to do with Mister Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin sex god."

"Slytherin sex god? Where did that come from?" asked Hermione, between giggles at Nagini's suddenly acquired pompous flare.

Nagini shrugged, "Pansy Parkinson and others of Draco Malfoy's fan club. I was in the Slytherin common room yesterday."

"Oh."

"Then I shall take my leave." She gracefully glided out of the Head Students' common room. Hermione stared after Nagini in envy of her smooth walk before entering her room, flopping on her bed with a sigh. What had she been thinking last night? Just because of a dream, she'd suddenly just seemed to lose all common sense. And the strange thing was… she'd **enjoyed** kissing the bloody bastard!

When she exited the portrait hole however, a few corridors down, a hand grabbed her shoulder, slamming her into the wall. "Hey!" she cried out as her shoulder connected bruisingly against the wall. "Shut up Mudblood." Hermione groaned. Only a Slytherin would use that epithet so freely. And she knew only one who was this pissed off with her. "What do you want, Parkinson?" she asked, frowning at the hard-faced, but still pretty Slytherin seventh-year. "Listen up Mudblood, don't mess with my Draco, you hear?"

"Since when was he **your** Draco?" Hermione asked snidely, straightening the front of her robes as she did so. Pansy smiled, "Because I've already got the ring." She lifted her hand to Hermione's face, the diamond flashing in the light from the torches in the brackets on the wall. Hermione raised an eyebrow, outwardly unperturbed. "Already? **Damn**, and I thought you might even have a hope of screwing someone outside of Hogwarts." Pansy's eyes narrowed as she shoved Hermione's head back against the wall using the palm of her hand, her nails digging into the other girl's flesh. "Listen up, Mudblood. Draco's marrying **me**… I've known for a long time now, and it's all been perfectly arranged…"

Hermione winced as she felt her hand come away from the back of her head slick with wet blood, she groaned. The way things were going, she was going to lose a few more million brain cells than she wanted. "You **bitch**…" she hissed at Pansy's self-satisfied look on her face. She then proceeded to lunge at Pansy, bringing them both to the ground, as she landed a solid blow to the side of Pansy's face with the side of her hand. 

Pansy kicked her off, slamming her into the opposing wall, whipping out her wand. Hermione followed suit, casting the first spell, forgetting entirely the rules of no magic in the corridors, "_Reflejo!_" she yelled, uttering the words of a spell she'd learned in one of her textbooks.

Pansy glared at her, a slightly triumphant look on her face, as she threw her own spell, "_Crucio_!"

Hermione's eyes widened at Pansy's words, but as Pansy's triumphant smile appeared on her face, a mirror-like surface appeared in front of Hermione, and the gray flash of her own spell rebounded. Her mouth opened in shock… she knew what was coming…

"_Finite Incantium_!" yelled a voice, cutting off both spells. Hermione was leaning heavily against the wall, gasping for breath, her eyes still on Pansy. She'd knew whatever the girl threw at her wouldn't be pleasant… but she'd hadn't thought that she'd throw an Unforgivable at her!

"_Stupefy_!" yelled the voice again, wand pointed at Pansy. Hermione's eyes widened even more as she recognized the voice… "Professor Snape!" she cried, sliding down the wall behind her to a crouched position next to the crumpled form of Pansy.

"Yes, Miss Granger. I hope that you have enough mobility in you to get out of the way… I shall need to bring Miss Parkinson to the Hospital Wing." Hermione nodded slowly, her brain suddenly sluggish as she got to her feet slowly, making her way towards the professor.

"Daisy? You all right?" asked the person who caught her when she tripped on her own feet. Her vision was blurring despite her best attempts to keep the blackness lapping at the edges of her vision at bay, the name he called her gave her a clue. And the strange thing was, he actually sounded **concerned**. "I'm fine…" she muttered, trying to struggle out of his grasp in order to walk on her own feet.

"Mister Malfoy, if she cannot walk without falling over her own two feet, would you mind very much to help her?" asked Snape's rather dry voice as he conjured up a stretcher with a flick of his wand. "We go to the Hospital Wing now, the Headmaster will have to be called and Miss Granger…" Hermione barely lifted her head to hear whatever he might say to her. "…Though, it was clever to use a reflection spell, you should know it drains the user of considerable strength and should be used only near the end of the battle when the spells are becoming dangerous… though I must say… I never expected…" he fell silent as Hermione nodded briefly, slumping half against Draco, half against the wall, unconscious.

Snape swore under his breath and conjured up another stretcher on which Draco placed the brunette. "Follow me then, Malfoy." The blond boy obeyed… and he would have died before he'd admit it, but he was actually nervous. Pansy hadn't hesitated to throw an Unforgivable at a girl she only disliked. What would she do if she was ordered to?

The procession that appeared in the Hospital Wing, along with the story along with it raised an uproar amongst the teachers, and despite their dislike of the Minister of Magic, Fudge was summoned. The students in the school were beside themselves with curiosity, not much had been said. But Hermione was still lying unconscious for reasons unknown, Draco was staying as well away from his old crowd as he could, and Pansy was facing Azkaban.

Harry and Ron, as well as Nagini on occasion, were at the Hospital Wing as much as possible in the continuing week, and there was wonderment on what else had happened. A reflection spell was not supposed to put a girl into a coma. Nagini seemed especially interested in Pansy's part of the story, and had asked permission of Professor Dumbledore to seem her, in order to "question her on her actions". She was given permission, only under the conditions that her wand be temporarily withheld, as well as her robes searched before she entered.

And with that, the Dark Lord's right hand snake entered the room in which Pansy sat on the rumpled bed, eyes gazing firmly on the floor. In a flat voice, she spoke, "I don't have anything to say with you, Professor."

"I am no professor, nor should you address me as one." replied Nagini, as she went to the chair opposite the bed on which Pansy Parkinson sat. The girl looked up, and Nagini had to hold herself from recoiling in disgust at the girl's dark circles around her eyes, the protruding cheekbones…

"You… you're the new girl."

"How dare you let your anger take control over you than even orders given to you from the Dark Lord?" snapped Nagini, in no mood for small talk.

Pansy's eyes widened, "What are you… what are you talking about?"

"It's obvious, is it not? You were stationed here personally by the Dark Lord, in order to keep a close watch on his heir."

"His heir?" her eyes widened, "How did you know?"

"I put two and two together, Pansy. Also, I have a close guess that that very same heir is Draco Malfoy."

Pansy closed her mouth into a tight line, "But you can't do anything now…" continued Nagini, eyes cold and glittering, "because you're going to Azkaban… a life sentence, I assure you. And you are no help to anyone, on either side."

"What are you here for then?!" screamed Pansy, glaring at her. "Why the hell do you give a fuck about what's going to happen to me?!" Nagini raised an eyebrow at the other girl's outburst, "I don't. You are expendable because you have let your anger take control of you. Neither the Dark Lord, nor those who oppose him have need of you. I came to tell you just what you have done."

"So you came to gloat, right? You came to laugh at me… just like that Mudblood Granger, both of you are after my fiancé!"

The other girl laughed, long and cold, "I?" she asked, "If I had wanted Draco Malfoy, I would have taken him long before now… he is a Head Student as am I. I came to give you one last way to turn to." 

She smiled, a feral smile, nothing human about it, displaying her true nature to the terrified girl in front of her. The large serpent coiled itself slowly around Pansy in languid circles, who was too afraid, and too shocked to move or even make a sound. Still using human speech, Nagini's head came ever closer to Pansy's ear, her tongue flicking out, once unintentionally catching Pansy's ear, causing her to shudder involuntarily, with fear. "This is _my_ secret, Pansy Parkinson, among many others." Her tail came up to her mouth, coiling itself around an elongated fang and with a serpentine grimace and with a wrench, the fang was free.

Suddenly the snake was no longer there, only the girl standing before her as she had been doing before, the fang held in her hand. "This is my last gift to you, Pansy, because unlike anyone else, I have a slight pity for you. I give you a choice that no one else will. A choice between a life in Azkaban surrounded by Dementors without a single happy thought, or a peaceful death."

She placed the fang in Pansy's lap. "You can use it once, before it disintegrates from lack of the poison. It has enough magic to cast an Unforgivable… on yourself if you desire. I leave it up to you."

She turned, and glided for the door, leaving Pansy, clutching the fang in her pale hands, as she stared after the girl. _She's a… she's a snake…_ She vaguely remembered her father, one of Voldemort's followers, had told her of Voldemort's right-hand serpent, a large snake that followed his orders better than any of the Death Eaters ever. Was she the same snake? _If I told… _she thought suddenly, desperately, _if I told, then I might not have to go to Azkaban at all! My father might still be able to save me!_

She was desperate now, panicked more than ever before at the coming decision, now that she had a decision. _But who would believe me?_ Memory hit her as she remembered the potion she'd administered on that uppity little Mudblood Granger. The little bitch had been so sure of herself, and she had had Draco even being _civil_ to her, while he commenced in being such a bastard to herself! So she, Pansy Parkinson, had brewed a potion with stolen ingredients from Professor Snape had slipped it into her pumpkin juice not too long ago. It had taken some time, but the effect should have worked by now, she would be unconscious, seemingly forever. Unless she decided to brew the antidote **with her own hands** or if she died. Neither was palatable, she found. It would be like giving in to that filthy Mudblood and she would not lose to her. Ever.

But the thought of Azkaban…

Nagini Whetlyn was not surprised when, three days later, a horrified shriek came through the hallways as Professor Sa Lai, more visibly shaken than any time they'd ever seen her came rushing through the halls towards the teacher's lounge. "Dear Lord, Pansy's dead!" she cried, as soon as she reached the door and flung it open. The only occupants were McGonagall, Hooch, and Snape.

Professor McGonagall stood, still severe, in even shock. "What is the meaning of this? How could a student be killed in a confined room?"

"I don't know! I went in to check on her and she was lying flat out on the floor. I checked her pulse… her touch was colder than mine."

McGonagall immediately went for the door, followed by the other two, on the feet in an instant. "Madame Hooch, please notify Madame Pomfrey immediately. Let's go see about this rumpus." By this time, students of varying years were clustering around the door, straining to hear what was being said. The frigid glares of the Potions Master were enough to send them scuttling out of their way as, in a flurry of different-colored robes, the three remaining professors made for the same room where Pansy was.

It was exactly as Professor Sa Lai had said, there she was, the dark hair of the Slytherin beauty spilled all over the floor, her hard-faced features softening as she lay as if in sleep, but with no drawing of breath, nor was her chest rising and falling. McGonagall went to her knees in front of her, checking her pulse, first in her wrist, then straight to her jugular at her neck. Nothing, not even a flutter of a heartbeat.

"Dear God, what happened to her?" exclaimed the teacher as she searched for any sign of what had happened. It was like it what it had been all those years before, when the Chamber of Secrets had first been opened and they'd found that girl, Myrtle, lying dead. Was it another one? Could it have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets? But she was thinking irrational thoughts, nothing of the sort could have happened. A spell? A potion?

"Professor Snape, do you think a potion could have been used on her?"

The black-haired man came over, examining her features closely, opening her closed eyelids to examine her pupils. "It's too difficult to tell… anything could have happened."

"Professors! What has happened?!" It was Madame Pomfrey at the door, as she bustled forward towards the prone form lying there on the ground. "She's dead, Poppy. And we need to find out how."

"How? I'm afraid I think I know, Minerva dear. I've seen enough of this during the Dark War… this is the look of the Unforgivable." Professor Sa Lai, standing in the door felt her already pale complexion pale even further. "You're not saying… _Avada Kedavra_?"

Snape paled, his face as white as Professor Sa Lai's. "So you're saying, someone can simply Apparate into Hogwarts, cast an Unforgivable on a Slytherin girl bound for Azkaban and Disapparates right back out? In a building that you can not do either in?!"

"She must have done it herself then."

"She was strictly forbidden to touch anything with charm work in it, and we have confiscated her wand. There was no way…" Professor McGonagall said, looking her over again, her lips tight as she tried to think what could have happened.

"And all students that have visited have been searched?"

"Of course! They handed in their wands when they went in, and they came back out and they were returned."

Madame Hooch soon returned, now with the Headmaster, who was looking extremely grave. "Oh dear…" he said softly as he came closer, among the throng of teachers in the already crowded and small room. "What could have happened…" he paused, a shrewd look in his eyes as he became even more grave, "Tell me, Minerva, has Nagini Whetlyn frolm Slytherin come to visit her?"

"Why, a matter of days ago, yes."

"I see…" Dumbledore knelt down beside Pansy's lifeless body and he said, "Professor McGonagall, please go and find Nagini Whetlyn, and bring her here."

If Professor McGonagall found this order strange, she said nothing and exited with a flurry of robes. Professor Snape, please bring me a vial of your strongest Veritassium and Professor Sa Lai… well, I believe Miss Parkinson's folks will be wishing to know what has happened to their daughter."

Madame Pomfrey knew her place at times like these and she slipped out of the room, waiting in the hall near the door, medical supplies at the ready, just in case. Of what, she did not quite know.

Nagini appeared with Professor McGonagall, silently following the more flustered professor. "You asked for me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Miss Whetlyn, did you have any prior knowledge of these happenings?" he asked finally, after a long silence. Nagini looked at him silently, green eyes searching his grim face, "Headmaster, you know my secret, you know of whom I received the power to become human from. Why did you not say anything to the Ministry of Magic? Why did you not watch my every move?"

"Because, I thought that perhaps you might prove trustworthy, just a thought mind you. I know very well how much of a threat you present to this school, but I believed that you, perhaps slightly more untainted than the rest of the human Death Eaters might understand and let go of Voldemort's discrimination of the Muggle and Muggle-born community." The Headmaster shook his head, "But why on Earth would you choose a full-blooded Slytherin girl who was already reported to be helping your side all along?"

Nagini sighed, "Headmaster, you knew very well what was in store for her after her trial. You know very well what they would do to her… sending her to Azkaban. They would break her. I gave her one of my fangs, Professor, so that she might make a choice."

The old man's bright blue eyes widened, "The fangs of a Basilisk child… I had forgotten the magical powers invested in them…"

She nodded, "She chose… as I knew she would."

"But you knew very well I suspected you to do such a thing, that I could expose you to everyone in the wizarding world. Why did you take such a risk?"

"There was… another reason…" she said slowly, biting her lip gently with the tip of one sharp canine. "My lord would be horrified at me and kill me on sight if he knew…" she looked up, from where she'd been watching a cockroach scuttle around the floor. "Pansy was acting strangely that day she and Hermione had that duel in the halls. I was watching her… at lunch… Pansy had looked as satisfied as a cat that'd just eaten a canary. She slipped something into Hermione's pumpkin juice. I managed to get a hold of some of it at the last moment, and I was able to analyze it…" she then continued to tell the details of the analyzing and the potion that it had turned out to be.

"Hermione wouldn't be able to come out of her coma unless Pansy brewed the antidote herself, or she died. And… Pansy is… not the type to give up when it comes to Draco Malfoy." She paused, looking almost bewildered, a strange expression on that coolly silent face. "I, trying to help a Muggle…" Dumbledore hid an amused smile, she really **was** blunt. "So you found it up to yourself to kill her."

"Would you have done so, Professor Dumbledore? Or would you have asked her ever so politely to mix that draught to restore Hermione Granger? Do you believe she would have if she was already faced with a charge to go to Azkaban?" Dumbledore watched the student in front of him carefully, his eyes sad. "No… no, I don't believe she would have."

He drew himself up, "This is a very serious business, Miss Whetlyn, but I will tell you. I believe your intentions were noble, and I believe they were for the greater good, no matter how much Miss Parkinson's parents will think. For this, I will order you to be under strict observation, but you may continue to remain at this school as well as continue in your classes. I still have hopes for you, Miss Whetlyn, and though I know I am playing with fire, I believe you might come through."

Nagini left in a strange state of confusion, wondering what the Headmaster had meant.

She wasn't surprised, three days later when the truth came out… Pansy Parkinson had been found lying dead in the middle of the floor, found by Professor Sa Lai. On that same day, Hermione Granger, in her hospital bed woke up.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Nagini's face, calmly watching her. Rubbing her eyes she sat up slowly, wrinkling her nose at the smells of the hospital wing before looking back at Nagini. "How long was I asleep?"

"Two weeks." Hermione sat bolt upright, "What?!" she exclaimed, throwing back the covers before Nagini's cool hand stopped her. "Wait for Madame Pomfrey," she advised, "You've been in something of a coma for the past two weeks and she'll have to look you over. I'll go get her… and your friends are here." She added, nodding her head towards Harry and Ron, who had caught sight of the shiny brown hair and were running over.

"'Mione!" yelled Ron first, and Hermione wondered wryly why Madame Pomfrey didn't come running, complaining of the noise, and about them upsetting her other patients. She slowly made her way back to the Hospital Wing, which was still in a state of panic. Whispers were heard as students who had been present in the hallway were now informing those sitting up in the white hospital beds.

"…her face was all _white_ you know? She just ran screaming down the hall…"

"…Snape had to bring in the Veritassium, I heard…"

"…didn't have to use it, I heard…"

Nagini ignored these whisperings, making straight for Hermione Granger's bed. The brunette was sitting up now, softly wailing about her studies, ("How_ever_ am I going to catch up?") and both Harry and Ron were both terribly relieved for her to be back to normal. Hermione stopped short when Nagini entered the room, and she had a strangely quizzical look on her face as she cocked her head, looking at her. "Hermione?" asked Nagini, rather confused about what was wrong.

"I have this strange idea that _you_ helped me come back… I don't even know why…" Nagini shrugged, as nonchalantly as she could, showing just how much training Hermione had given her in being casual. Hermione nodded slowly, before pulling off the blankets and sheets on top of her as she began to climb, wobbly it must be said, off the bed. Madame Pomfrey came running over tut-tutting and wringing her hands over the delicacy of those who had weak stomachs and weak limbs, and all numbers of illnesses. This went on until Hermione was certain that if she had even a quarter of what Madame Pomfrey had listed, she would have to have been carted around in a wheelbarrow from the moment she was born. 

When finally, they escaped that very same hospital wing, it was two hallways away, when Hermione, leading the way, smacked right into someone around the corner, making her stumble backwards, falling on top of Nagini with a shriek. "OW!" she yelled, as both of them fell in a heap, as the two boys they'd been walking with stared dumbfounded at them for a moment, uncomprehending for that moment.

"Shit! Wait… Daisy, is that you?"

Hermione, in a blaze of pain, thought the name had given her a very good clue who it was. Somewhere along the way in their mutual dive to stone floor, she had cracked her head upon Nagini's and was currently watching supernovas explode before her eyes. She felt herself be hauled upwards, by hands not entirely ungentle, which help regain and support her balance.

A muffled groan behind her served to remind her that Nagini had indeed been sprawled on the cold stone floor. Also, she noticed the same hardness that had been pressing into her side from the small object in the pocket of her school robes. She pulled away from Draco Malfoy with a groan, and was about to reach down and pull up Nagini, (with many apologies of course), when Harry was there, helping her to her feet, making sure she hadn't cracked her skull open on the very hard, very cold stone floor.

Draco watched her silently for a moment before saying, rather quietly, "I'm glad you're all right, Daisy."

~*~*~*~

End Chapter. Awww. How sweet. So not a cliffhanger. I'm sleepy. Good night.


	9. Chapter 08

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Eight

Stefani: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! *runs frantically after her littlest cousin who is feeding Stefani's prized possession (her sketchbook, what else?) to the fish*

S-chan's little cousin: LOOK AT THE PRETTY PICTURES FISHY!"

Stefani: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! *dives for book*

Book: *drops into fishtank*

Stefani: (O.O) *keels over in a dead faint*

~~~

Nanashi: And that's why the authoress is in such a bad mood.

Stefani: *grumble, grumble, grumble*

Chibi-Relena: However, she did not really keel over in a dead faint, but several members of her extended family had to hold her back from assaulting her cousin and shaking some sense into her.

Heero-chan: …

Chibi-Relena: *stomps on Heero-chan's foot*

Heero-chan: *grumbles under his breath* Just read the damn chapter.

Stefani: *commences sobbing* MY SKETCHBOOOOOOOOOOOK!!!! WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! *runs off, still bawling her eyes out*

Chibi-Relena: (-_-);

Heero-chan: (-_-);

Nanashi: ///_-);

(Overused joke I know, but I couldn't resist)

~*~*~*~

Draco watched her silently for a moment before saying, rather quietly, "I'm glad you're all right, Daisy."

Hermione regarded him silently for a moment, lips pursed in that thoughtful look he had learned that preceded any astonishing statement. He didn't have long in the waiting.

She pulled out a glittering silver ring, fashioned into that of a small gold reptile. It could have been either snake or dragon, it was hard to tell in that dim light, but Draco recognized in an instant. And a sudden coil of some sickening feeling wrapped itself around his stomach. "Where's Pansy? I think she'd want this back."

Nagini coughed delicately while the others were muttering several, "Well, uh…", "You see…", "Daisy, she's…"

"They want to tell you in the gentlest way possible that Pansy Parkinson is dead."

Hermione's jaw dropped in shock as she turned on the dark beauty of Slytherin house. "She's… _what_?!"

Draco's hair hung low, hiding his eyes behind several chunky bangs that he'd allowed to be free of the usually slicked back coiffure called his hair. "Yeah…" he said softly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, as eyed him closely, checking for any infinitesimal clue that any of them were lying. That it was just some elaborate (and in very poor taste) joke. But it didn't seem like it.

"What… happened to her?"

"No one knows 'Mione, she was in solitary confinement and then Professor Sa Lai just walked in and… there she was."

Hermione's face turned a sick, grayish color. "Do you… do you think it was because of me?"

"Why would it be because of you?"

"I don't know… while I was sleeping, I could hear her voice laughing at me, taunting me, screaming at me… it wasn't as if I could physically hear it… but I knew each word she said, and then it was like we were fighting… I think I was dreaming really, but she was trying to hurt me I think… and I fought back…" she shrugged helplessly, "I really don't know… I didn't know what side effects casting the reflection spell on myself would do."

"It was not your fault." This was from Nagini, and Hermione looked at her in surprise, and Ron, with a hint of suspicion. "And how d'you know that?" he asked her, daring her to tell them.

Nagini's eyes narrowed at Ron, and stuck out her tongue at him, which strangely didn't seem childish at all, rather it seemed almost threatening. Hermione turned to her in alarm, before noticing Ron's confusion. That was it… he and Draco had no clue. "Despite the considerable lack of knowledge I have of Hermione, I do not deign to think that she is a murderer." A wry thought crossed her mind, _Unlike the filthy turncoat you are suddenly supposing yourself to be…_ she shuddered at the thought, of what her Lord Voldemort might do to her.

"That's true…" this from Draco Malfoy.

"If I might remind you, conversing in the hallways in such a large group is usually discouraged." The low, silky voice of Severus Snape was heard directly behind them, shocking them all, Nagini mentally showing grudging admiration at the silence of his footsteps that rivaled her own. Well, why shouldn't he? He was head of Slytherin House, was he not?

"'Mione just got out of the hospital, Professor, and—"

"Be that as it may, Weasley, the place for conversation is usually in the Dining Hall. I suggest you go there before any House points are deducted."

The five students, dignified Seventh-Years as they may be, cowered beneath Snape's sudden scowl, before dropping all pretenses to cut and run. 

Snape himself was in a very bad mood. That woman, that new professor had literally been thrust at him, most of the other professors, as well as the headmaster, had wanted, to the extremes that she be taken care of, in favor of her… condition. In other words, the fact that she was a vampire made her have instincts the rest of the school staff did not. And as he had during the short term of Remus Lupin's stay as the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, he was now entrusted with the task of brewing a potion for her. However, the only problem was, that vampires, why acknowledged by wizarding society, were not the most popular of beings. Which was why this potion had not yet been completely perfected. And which was why he had to figure it out on his own. This accounted with spending time with a woman he was rather suspicious of, truth be told he was suspicious about every new student and professor that entered the school, he had a feeling she had more first-hand experience with the Dark Arts than she seemed.

This also made him rather intrigued, despite himself, and the fact that he couldn't seem to crack through that seemingly perfected state of… bemusement maybe? It was the total detachment she had about this school. He hadn't seen her fazed once until the Parkinson incident that afternoon. And he did not enjoy being near that woman, as very good a help she was when it came to testing the potion. The potion to make it so that the bloodlust did not overpower her own will. Why, he could not give a straight answer to just yet, but she made him… uneasy.

"Severus?" That half-dreamy, half-steely voice floated down to his ears from the door. That was another thing that bothered him, that voice of silky softness over steely undertones. "Yes, Miss… Tien Shi?"

She appeared at the doorway, smiling at his discomfort with her name. "Oh, silly thing, call me Angel. The Headmaster only used that name because of the circumstances under which he found me back in China."

Snape drew back, offended at being called a 'silly thing' by a fellow professor. "Very well then, Angel, what is it that you want?" he asked stiffly.

She came down the stairs slowly, in a graceful, smooth gait that almost rivaled that new Slytherin, Nagini's. "I see I have offended you then…" she said softly, as she approached him, "I merely came to see if your testing the potion required any of my limited services."

"I _do_ have a new variant, but I do not think it wise to use it on you just yet." Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure what would happen. Angel Salleigh, however, was a witch quite adept at Potions, almost as good as she was in her knowledge of the defense against the dark arts, and she marched over to the long wooden table. "Severus, I'm sure anything is better than constantly worrying that I'll suddenly flash _these_—" here she contorted her lips into a half-smile, half-grimace to show her suddenly elongated and curved fangs. "—to my students and scare them out of their wits. And should it not work… no one would be so extremely worried." The bitterness in her voice was almost palpable as she took the vial of still-bubbling violet concoction and, ignoring the protests of the Potions Master as he went to grab the vial, held him back with inhuman strength and downed the vial.

Snape stepped backwards the instant she did so, suddenly apprehensive of what she would do and suddenly wishing his wand wasn't sitting placidly on his desk on the other side of the room. Because the minute she swallowed it, the vampiress, let out a soft, if high keening sound, and her head snapped back down to stare eye-to-eye with him. The vial dropped from her hand, smashing against the floor. Whatever effect he'd wanted, this certainly wasn't it as the woman slowly advanced on him. 

Trapped in the one corner of the room without a clear path to the door, and not even with is wand, he watched the approaching woman with a look of those that are doomed. _Merlin's beard, why do I not follow my gut instincts on subjects like these?!_ The way things looked right now, all he could think about was that his place on the food chain had just slipped a few notches, and he'd been degraded to the species of 'dinner'.

~*~*~*~

"**WHAT**?!" Voldemort's voice was raised in complete outrage, the dark eyes flashing. Wormtail cowered and shied away from his master, "S-Sir, the Initiates in the castle…"

"My Nagini has been under my service, and has been my right-hand serpent for as long as I can remember. If she did indeed kill that pathetic Parkinson girl, then it was for the good of our cause… my cause."

"B-but my lord…" he whined pathetically, "That Pansy girl might've b-been a valuable addition to you… she showed great promise when she cast an Unforgivable—"

"You fool." The words were smooth, "Do you believe she would have been such a help if she cast the Cruciatus curse on a fellow schoolmate simply because of jealousy? She was facing Azkaban and she would not have been any help to us." Lord Voldemort was in a terrible mood, truly annoyed with the uselessness of the Animagus known previously as Peter Pettigrew.

"I will allow Nagini some freedom at that school… she is knowledgeable enough in the subtle ways of our torture not to risk it."

Wormtail exited quickly, wondering suddenly just how much Lord Voldemort cared about that snake. If he even _could_ care anymore. Or if he had ever could.

~*~*~*~

Hermione was in her room, stretching and luxuriating in the silky comforts of her own bed. Finding something small and hard digging in her side again, she pulled it out of her pocket irritably, before recognizing it. Of course… she had yet to give it back to him. She flung it onto her desk, allowing it to land in a box of paperclips and going back to wriggling on her bed. Nagini, who walked in at that moment smiled softly at the sight of the 17-year-old acting like a child. "Hermione?" The girl stopped moving, and sat up, a slight flush staining her cheeks. "Ahh—er, hey?"

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament will begin soon."

"I know."

"Do not let Harry Potter compete. You are his friend, make sure he remains alive." Hermione looked serious, "What do you and Draco know?"

For a moment, Nagini was taken aback. "What does Draco know?"

"I don't **know**, that's the thing! He won't tell me! He just gave me all this bull about it being our last year and how it'll be You-Know-Who's last chance to kill him before we graduate!"

"Do you not think it's more probable than possible? The tournament would be the best excuse… I wonder at Dumbledore for holding it again at this school." 

Hermione sighed, nodding, "If you won't tell me anything more than that, I guess we'll leave it at that." she "fwump"ed back onto the bed. "Mmm, it's great to be back in my bed…"

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "I would think that after two weeks in bed you'd be a little more…" she waved her hands in cyclic gesture trying to think of a word, "active?" Hermione laughed at that, "If you think the hospital beds even **compare** with mine, you need to be forced to stay in one for a very long time. **Then** you'll know the difference."

"I agree." The two of the looked up to see Draco lounging in the doorway behind Nagini. Having shucked his school robes and the customary green Slytherin jacket and tie, his school shirt's collar gaping, he looked positively delicious.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why am I not surprised that Malfoy spent time in the Hospital Wing? Was it when Ron decked you? Or maybe when that Hippogriff slashed your arm! Or was it when—?" she asked was interrupted by Draco, his pale face flushing, "Shut up."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh how original." She replied sarcastically.

Draco shrugged, "Whatever works."

Nagini sighed, "Return to the topic at hand if you don't mind. Or at least, the topic **I** had in mind… what are we to do about the Yule Ball? Our answers are to be given in tonight."

The two of them stared at her, mouths dropping. "You're not serious." Hermione said flatly, unable to believe it.

In response, Nagini held out the piece of paper that Professor Dumbledore had handed to her earlier that week. The words swam before her eyes for a moment before Hermione actually focused on them. And, like Nagini had said, the date they had to present their idea was… "TODAY!"

"**Shit**!" Draco swore as he raced towards the common room, looking for the stacks of parchment that they'd written all over with ideas. They found Crookshanks curled up on one pile of them, calmly licking its paw. The moment they entered the common room however, its eyes went right to Nagini and it made a sound between a purr and a hiss. Nagini smiled, walking over, rubbing the cat between its ears, and, with her back to the others, she whispered into the cat's ear, "_She's fine now_…" The cat purred in contentment, allowing itself to thoroughly enjoy her scratching. Nagini stood up, holding the cat in her arms, stroking its back now, and a strange faraway smile appeared on her face for a moment before she shook her head, turning back to the task at hand.

"What theme should this year be then?" she asked, sitting down on one of the comfortable sofa chairs, with a stack of papers with Draco's neatly messy scrawl all over them. She lifted one, reading it silently to herself, then looked up to where Draco was sitting, across the long coffee table from Hermione who seemed to have cooled to him, and was paying attention to her own stack of papers. "So how about this… I thought we could do without those dress robes, y'know? We could go to it like a sort of prom almost, like the Muggle schools have their high school proms? Well I wanted to do that… you know, go all formal in nice dresses and tuxes." Draco grimaced, "You mean those monkey suits some of the half-Muggles parade around Hogsmeade in when there's a wedding?"

"Well… yes…"

Nagini smiled, flashing teeth. "I have never seen Muggle formal wear… what do they look like?" Hermione grinned, brightening. "Ooh! I have one! I got it over the summer and I brought it, even though there was absolutely no reason to wear it… but I think it's so pretty in a dark, gothic-esque way." She ran off into her room, shouting, "Hold on!"

Draco blinked.

Nagini smiled. She knew well enough that Hermione would look stunning. Perhaps then, Draco might have the balls to say something about his and Pansy's 'relationship'. There was a lot of rustling behind that closed door, and Nagini's eyes were sharp enough to catch Draco's sudden restlessness. 

Leaning in closer, in a soft voice that approached the line of between speaking and whispering, she asked, "Do you like Hermione's idea?"

"She's the one with all the big ideas, not me. I don't really care."

The lamia could barely hold in her impatience. Perfect. Now **he** was acting all aloof ad unconcerned. Only Crookshanks' throaty purr, kept her from saying something smarting. Had Hermione known her cat was part Kneazle? That he was a magical kitty, and was worth more than several Nimbus 2003's? The cat, nudged its head into her abdomen, forcing her thoughts back to the matter at hand. Currently, Draco was ready to get up and walk back into his room, through with waiting.

"Where are you going?"

"Can't you tell? I'm going to my room if Daisy's going to take her merry little time in her room."

"I HEARD THAT!" Hermione's voice bellowed, magically amplified through the doorway. "Now sit down and shut up!"

The door opened a minute later, and there, the stately brunette did a mock runway pose in the doorway. Nagini smiled approvingly, while Draco… well, suffice to say that he was shell-shocked.

To describe the dress. Draco could've sworn that it had nothing to do with Muggles because of the fact that absolutely **nothing** could look that good on a person without it having to be magical glamour. But it was as real as you or I, and though it was doubtful that it would have blended in, even in the Muggle world, Hermione looked more like the bewitching beauty than ever before.

Hah, if Draco had thought she'd look hot all the way back in Fourth, then, she was nothing less than a Goddess of indescribable dark beauty, a Black Goddess, sinful and sexy.

The black material that made up the dress was indescribable. It could have been silk, it could have been satin… it could have been any number of fabrics, he didn't care. It was cut short in the front, several inches above her knees, which were clad in black fishnet hose and long black boots with a sharp spike of a heel. The back flared out so that it reached just about the heel of her shoes, as not to drag on the ground. Jets of silver flame shot up from the bottom of the long skirt, edged with sparkling red accents, contrasting brightly against black.

And that was only describing the **bottom** of her dress, (from a **guy's** point of view too!).

Hugging her body, it was just tight enough to accent her curves, but not enough so that she looked like she would never breathe again. (Hey, she had more common sense than that!) Red ties held the V-neckline closed… but just barely, the criss-cross pattern leading his eyes downward from her collarbone… he swallowed nervously. The sleeves were long, made of some dark material—it looked like lace—that melded both black and red into one mix of complete artwork, material so sheer you could see through it, and her slim arms underneath. They flared out at the elbows and flowed in an unseen wind whenever she moved.

She turned around slowly, grinning. "Well? Isn't it just **fabulous**?" she was talking to Nagini at this point, Draco apparently not able to offer any opinion at that point.

"You look…" she had to think to find a suitable human word, "simply dazzling."

Hermione grinned, "It's all in the dress… you'd look just as good as me in it I'm sure!"

Nagini laughed, "No one could look as well as you do in that dress, I guarantee it. Perhaps I will find one for myself…" she frowned, suddenly remembering the reason she was here at this castle in the first place. "But…"

"Oh, don't but. First thing come the London trip, we'll find something for you."

"Among Muggles?"

"When in the Muggle world, you usually **will** expect to see Muggles."

Draco, again, found himself to be ignored when the conversation topic steered into Rodeo Drive. Hermione of course, did not forget. "Oh yeah…" she scrabbled around the folds of her skirt, before pulling out a small object that flashed silver. She tossed it to Draco, who caught it reflexively. When you've been a Seeker for six years, the reflexes become imbued. "It's pretty you know… and it's sure to cost a bundle, you wouldn't want it stuck with **me** now would you?"

Nagini sighed, "Hermione, Draco, how does this sound? I shall bring our idea of Muggle formal dress, as well as the idea of the 'Bewitching Seraphs' to play for us by popular demand. And you two shall talk… I have no need for an undercurrent of hostility between my roommates." She disappeared out the portrait hole, a soft greeting to Sirius and James as she passed by, down the hallway.

Draco and Hermione were left alone, staring dumbfounded at Nagini, what had been the only barrier between the two. Draco had to admit, she was better at hiding her feelings than most girls he knew. "So now you know," he said dully, collapsing into one of the plush sofa chairs.

"That Pansy's…" she paused, almost hesitant, to say the word, "dead?"

"No, that we were supposed to get married after school."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know why, but at the least, I expected you to have better taste in women…" Draco laughed harshly, "Don't I know it? Every Slytherin guy in the school has fucked her at least once. Who the hell would want to give a ring to **her**?"

"Then why did you—?"

"Our families wanted us to. Pansy was the best they could come up with to pair with the H—never mind." he turned rather red, and she eyed him inquisitively, but did not say anything.

"Draco…"

He stood up and made as if to go. She, in her stead, grabbed him by the sleeve of his black robe and tugged him down, onto the two-seater she was sitting on. "Oh no you don't, you're gonna tell me just what you think of my dress!"

She had changed the subject with such relative ease that he was almost grateful for her dropping the subject and finding a new one so quickly. "You look…" he trailed off as he took in the wonder that was Hermione Granger in that confection of a dress. "Good." he finished, weakly, unable to think up a good way to describe it. She raised an eyebrow, obviously disappointed with his choice of words. "Good? That's it?"

Draco was silent, before shrugging.

"Wow. And I thought **Harry** got tongue-tied around girls…" she muttered, for some strange reason knowing exactly what would make him blow his top.

"If you think I'm **anything** like that idiotic Boy Wonder—" he raged, leaping to his feet, before he realized she was laughing. He stared at her, silent and openmouthed, wondering what on Earth was so funny.

The subject change was as immediate as the previous one. "So who're you taking to the Yule Ball?" she asked, leaning forward, eyes inquisitive, really wanting to know. Draco gulped, trying his darndest to ignore the **very** pleasant view he had, and still trying to answer the question. "I don't know…"

She rolled her eyes, "How like a guy," she mumbled, sitting back against the back of the sofa and sighing. "Just a question… but if I'd been in Slytherin, would you even consider taking me?" she asked, suddenly, pinning him with her eyes again.

He was dumbfounded, shocked, flabbergasted, astounded, and any other words of that nature you could think of. "You?"

"Yeah… me…" seeing his face, she immediately frowned. "Oh never mind," she said, irritated. "I should've known." He was surprised at her reaction, and managed to voice a question of his own. "I kissed Pansy once or twice before," he told her, and despite her almost disgusted look he continued staunchly, "and she was picking out her bridesmaids' dresses in less than two days. But then I go and kiss you and you act like it's nothing. Why's that?"

She looked well surprised, but decided to answer anyway. "Well, I'm not Pansy to start off. I have never been that clingy about anything in my entire life. And I don't believe that a few kisses are true love. If you knew what kind of summer I had—" she shook her head, "No, cross that, it was a great summer. But that doesn't mean that I didn't get my heart broken a few times in a row. Makes you wonder what true love is, you know?"

Draco had lapsed into silence again, and she sighed. "But why would you care? You've been embarrassed about being caught kissing a Mudblood every time…"

"Daisy, let me ask you one question."

"Shoot."

"Why on Earth would you think that those 'Mudblood' cracks were for you?"

"Eh?" she could just **feel** the question mark floating above her head.

"Was there ever a time where Weasley did not react more than you whenever I said that?"

"You mean… all those times…" she looked incredulous. 

"I was trying to piss of the Weasel, not you. I couldn't have cared less about that."

She winced, even under his eyes, before recovering her expression of considerate cockiness. Raising an eyebrow, she said, dryly it must be told, "You could've gone without that last part, you know…"

She'd disappeared behind that familiar old banter that had been happening between them since day one. He shot her a smile, this time with a bit of that old Malfoy leer, "But then, it wouldn't be me now would it?"

Laughing, she grabbed a pillow from behind her, smacking him in the side of the head, "You're a bloody asshole, you know that?"

"HEY!" he yelled, groping for another pillow, all of which she kept firmly tucked beneath her. Apparently, she had planned for this, because as he reached forward, she smacked him on the head again. And again. And… well now, again!

Finally, several tens of whacks later, he succeeded in grabbing a pillow after half-wrestling her off them. "You're going to get it now!" he growled, his perfectly combed hair mussed as he attacked her, amidst shouts of laughter from both of them, shot through with several of her giggles. He soon succeeded in pinning her down, disarming her of her pillow, laughter, as well as triumph dancing in his eyes, as he regarded her, still giggling beneath him.

"Oh stop it!" she was shrieking, "You're going to kill my dress! You have no idea how long it'll take to get rid of these wrinkles!"

"Then you'll get another one. Or, you'll work one of those damned charms you're so good at and fix it, you little witch!" he returned, grinning evilly at her. Hermione stopped laughing all at once, mildly surprising Draco, "You know, you're right about that one at the least…" she looked so thoughtful and seemed to forget their current situation so quickly, that he had to wonder at her… 

Then the next second, he found himself lying flat on his back on the carpeted floor, Hermione straddling his stomach with a triumphant look on her face. She was smirking down on him in an expression he recognized very well… when he looked at himself in the looking glass every morning. Oh bloody hell, was she taking **his** characteristics for herself now?

"You are distracted too easily," she remarked. Draco, who had a veeeerrry nice view, of her daisy underwear (brings back memories, don't it?), just because of how short the front of that skirt was, was in no mood to tell her to move anywhere else.

"Like you can talk,"

"Very true. I'm supposed to be mad at you." My, she **was** blunt.

"You don't look it."

"No, I don't, don't I…?" she leaned in close, so that her face was just above his, tantalizing his senses with the sight, and with the scent of pure Hermione 'Daisy' Granger. Despite his best intentions, and what was left of his (admittedly warped) gentlemanly ethics, he wanted to kiss her. Very, very much so. And she knew it, the little minx, pinning down his arms just enough so that he couldn't pull her down, ending all this sweet torture. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, her face came ever closer…

In spite of his steeling himself to do the opposite, his eyelids seemed heavier than if he had went three weeks without a single sleep and he simply **had** to close them… He could almost taste her lips against his, and he longed for them, every moment seeming more like some prolonged, exquisite torture, than a simple kiss.

But Hermione had other ideas. Taking advantage of his closed eyelids, she moved quickly to the side of his head to his ear, her lips tickling the sensitive skin as she whispered several arcane words of magic. Her wand, which had somehow been hidden in her sleeve all along (he would have to look up a spell to hide a wand like that) was jabbing into him right in the solar plexus.

His eyelids flew open as he stared up at her grinning face as she got herself up off him and trying to smooth out several wrinkles in the black fabric of her dress. Without even a peck on the cheek, she flounced off to her room, saying something about "feeding Crookshanks". As if that cat didn't very well feed itself quite adequately!

Draco stretched, his sanity back from its holiday to Majorca and he lay on the carpet, staring at the vaulted ceiling, thinking. What was wrong with him? If ever his father found out… a cold twisting of fear coiled in the pit of his stomach as he thought of his father. 

Owls were being sent alarmingly regularly now, and every single was telling him of his duty to the Malfoy household, upholding family honor, prolonging the respect given to their name, and all that bull. Like he cared two Knuts for any of that… well, maybe the gold. Because before he turned eighteen, he would never catch sight of the inside of their Gringott's vault. And should he decide not to bear the Dark Mark, there was no way in hell that he'd ever see his next birthday… according to his father. 

But Draco had gotten into Slytherin not just because he wanted to, but because he deserved to, and if there was any way around a concrete rule, he would find it. Satisfied with that knowledge, he pushed the residual fear aside and got up, in need of a cold shower.

Or at least, he should have gotten up if he had been able to move his back even a single inch off the carpet.

It took a few seconds for this to get to his head, before his lungs expanded and he yelled, in his best 'voice of doom'. "**DAISY**!"

He heard her giggle in the other room, followed by a, "Sorry Draco-honey, can't hear ya from back here!"

"**GET ME UP OFF THIS BLOODY FLOOR**!"

"What was that, baby? You've got to speak louder than that…!" there was that dreaded sing-song quality that she had whenever she was this immensely pleased with herself. He'd heard it before, and it was just as teeth-grinding (when he was this frustrated with whatever she did to him) whenever she'd made a particularly nasty retort or done something considerably evil to him.

"**ARGH**!" was all he could manage. He cursed himself for having left his wand in his room, and, feeling frustration beginning to take the better of him, grabbed a stack of parchment still left behind from Nagini, and threw them. However, he found soon enough that it was a very stupid thing to do because all it resulted in was a reenactment of Harry Potter's 'Hogwart's letter fiasco' and was almost completely buried in parchment.

"I have a feeling that wasn't quite the effect you wanted." He looked up backwards, craning his neck to see Hermione standing above him, her arms crossed. He frowned, "What gave you **that** idea?" he groused, frowning, and looking rather ridiculous doing that upside down.

"Do you want me to let you up, then?"

"No, really?" he asked sarcastically. Frustration made his tongue snappish.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "No need to be rude. So… what would happen if I should let you up off the floor then, Draco-baby?"

"What do you want?" he asked waspishly, not in the mood for any light banter.

Hermione's smile grew even wider, "Well now… let's see… I really would like a guy to learn how to drive the car for our trip down to London… it's in a few weeks you know."

"Drive? You mean… in one of those metal Muggle contraption?!" he looked astounded. "Who the hell do you think I am?! Arthur Weasely?!" Hermione looked almost hurt, "That's not a very nice thing to say… nor are you in a good position to say things like that…" she added.

Draco suddenly wished he was back in the Slytherin Common room, away from the Gryffindor Out-to-Get-Draco-Malfoy.

Poor Draco. He should've learned sooner not to offend a rampaging Gryffindor beauty queen.

~*~*~*~

She clawed feebly at the shallow crevasses amid the stone blocks, her tired limbs screaming their protests as she attempted to continue the harsh work of scaling the massive wall. If only she had her wand…! She was weak, and she knew it. Deep in the lower parts of the castle, even beneath the deepest of the dungeons lay the stoneworks, the very roots of the castle that had been built by the Founding four. It had taken what little magic she had left at her disposal to free herself and she was now hiding in the deep, dark spaces like some cowardly dog. Freedom seemed so far away… there was no other way out other than the way she already was taking, and the narrow stone shaft she was slowly clawing herself up seemed immense.

__

Get me out! I want to get out! Some small, childish voice cried out from inside her, and the eyes that had never shed a single tear blinked rapidly in order to be rid of the embarrassing moisture… she would soon be out! That was her only welcome thought, her only hope.

But what was the use? If she were able, who could she turn to? Who would remember her as the person she had been, now seeming to be millennia ago? How could they know, the secrets, the enchantments that were hidden in the very roots of the castle that she had stumbled upon? No one would believe her…

__

I want to get out! Her mind screamed and her hand reached out, to grasp the final edge. A surge of her residual adrenaline rushed through her and her hands, scraped and cracked with several nails broken through, scrabbled at the wall, having lost a hold for a moment and fear overtook the adrenaline.

Fear was stronger than adrenaline as it seemed before she pulled herself up onto the ledge, into the coolness of the night, the moon shining on the back of her sweaty neck, as she simply lay there, breathing hard, her body hurting worse than anything else. She was out of the castle. That was all she had to know just then and there. The wind blew chillingly, freezing the sweat on her body and she shivered, crawling towards the relative shelter of the bushes near her. It was best not to be out in the open anyway.

Shivering hard enough that several of the fallen leaves of the bush crackled beneath her, she fell asleep.

She never even noticed when another person came closer, her feet barely even making the dried leaves on the ground crackle as she came forward. "I knew this would happen." She did however, feel the sudden warmth and the coarse, scratchy fabric of a blanket been laid, firstly on top of her, then being wrapped around her as she was picked up and carried away from the hole in the stone wall. She slept on, silently, completely and utterly exhausted.

~*~*~*~

"Stop!" he yelled, nervously, almost fearfully as he saw the color of her eyes had slowly melted from their usual silvery color to a deep, raging red. A small, feral smile appeared on her blood-red lips, framing the whiteness of her teeth magnificently, before she clamped her mouth shut, turning violently away. "I need—" she ground out hoarsely, "to get back—to my—office—blood—"

"Angel—"

"Please—" her voice was plaintive now, and with little hesitance, he said, "Drink mine."

She started, shocked half out of her blood-craving haze, "No! There is—in my office—"

"Your office is all the way up on the second floor. You would be endangering the students in the halls." His voice was reasonable, even as, only a little while before, he had been afraid of her and what she could do.

"Not all." She said, trying to convince herself, just as much as reassure him. He nodded.

She came forward then, pressing him against the wall, leaning fully on him as she went high on her toes to reach his neck, and he tensed, despite himself. A sharp pain later, and then the slightly light-headed feeling, as well as something else… a sudden heat that spread from where her lips were caressing his skin as she drew in his blood, and down throughout his entire body. Her small hands reached up, one grasping at his back, the other twining itself in his long, thick hair. He could tell why those who had survived a vampire's feeding called it the Vampire's Kiss.

Suddenly, she wrenched away, shrinking away from him, and his body was shocked by the sudden absence of the humming waves of heat that had been flowing through his body.

"Oh God," she swore beneath her breath, her eyes still red, a thin line of blood dripping from the corner of her lips, "Oh God, what have I done?" He gingerly touched the place where she had bitten him and felt the sticky liquid still on his neck. She bit her lip, coming forward, tentatively. He stood frozen as he watched the crimson-eyed woman come closer, unable to move. Reaching up again, she pulled him down closer to her, and set her lips on the twin markings and he closed his eyes, expecting another sharp pain.

It never came. But her tongue came out, swiping what was left of his blood away, and slowly, infinitesimally, the wound closed, and the bite marks could not be seen. Then she backed away again, her eyes cast downward. "I am sorry…" she said softly, "Perhaps Dumbledore was wrong when he said he could trust me…"

He was silent for a moment, saying nothing as he had often done when in a position he disliked and could do nothing about. He was not a man who enjoyed giving comfort, was a novice at it really, and he wanted more than anything to be out of this situation as quickly as he possibly could. Well, when all else fails, you can always turn back to what you do best. In his case, he was cynical. "Then perhaps you might wish to speak to the Headmaster of this affair if you are so distrustful of yourself. It does not bode well to try untested potions and attack other professors… or students." He added, twisting the already-inserted knife. She physically winced before saying, almost sarcastically, "And who would you have tested on in my stead? Another vampire mistress you keep locked in your closet?" she asked, her low, purring voice sending shivers up and down his spine at her implications.

"Of course not!" he snapped, with a swift gesture, allowing the long sleeves of his robes to be moved out of his way, "I meant when I have my wand and can cast a Stunning spell if it becomes immensely dangerous." She watched him closely, listened to the quickness of his intakes of breath. "But you could have. You know you could have gotten your wand when I retrieved my sanity. Why didn't you cast a Stunning spell? A Full-Body-Bind? Something of the sort?"

Now that she said it out loud, he felt foolish. Why hadn't he? His judgement had not been that clouded with fear that he could not have gone for his wand at the opportune time? Why then? "I—" she cut him off with a slight gesture of her hand. "I am sorry," she said finally, "I appreciate what you're doing for me. Merlin's beard, I wish to heaven that I knew enough to brew this potion myself… and I honestly thank you. Not many people are as trusting as Dumbledore is to me and I am grateful. I will not compromise my position like this again…" she disappeared out the door, leaving him to continue pondering the immortal question. Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

~*~*~*~

End of chapter. Just because it seems like as good a place as any to stop at. Email me! I'm at mirroredsakura@yahoo.com or you can even review me! Multiple times! AsianAvenue was right! I AM a guestbook whore!


	10. Chapter 09

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Nine

Stefani: *appears on stage fully recovered from her previous 'grump mood'* *is wearing a black robe with long filmy sleeves* Hallowe'en is OVER! No more chance to wear costume! *pouts considerably over the unfairness of it all* Too bad it can't come more days of the year.

Chibi-Relena: *from her spot balancing on a tightrope with an adorable little umbrella* But then it wouldn't be fun! And no one would get enough candy from the cheapskates.

Stefani: Point well taken. Don't fall.

Heero-chan, Nanashi: *currently assigned to be Chibi-Relena's safety net*

Stefani: *eyes this odd Muse arrangement with a curious look* You know what? I don't want to know what Nanashi's been teaching that Muse. *walks off muttering*

Chibi-Relena: *jumps off tightrope* *lands in Heero's lap* Baka! You were supposed to catch me!

Heero-chan: *stares at previously Chibi-Relena-less lap* You're not dead yet.

Nanashi: Blunt as always. *walks away*

Chibi-Relena: *frowns*

****

POP!

(Chibi Relena becomes teenaged Relena, Lena-chan!)

Lena-chan: *glares at Heero-chan*

Heero-chan: *returns mute stare*

Lena-chan: *losing temper* Draw the curtain!

*curtains simply drop down*

*sounds of a scuffle can be heard* 

*audience does not want to know*

~*~*~*~

"What do you want me to do?!" demanded Draco again, hoping she would be serious this time. There was in no way that Lucius Malfoy's son was ever going to drive such a Muggle contraption! And that was final. No snogs with the current Gryffindor torturess was going to change that… he paused that train of thought, _No, no never say never…_

Hermione's expression became lightly teasing, "Well, for a long, long time, I've always wanted a pony…"

"Do you want a currycomb with that?" he grumbled under his breath.

Hermione stopped, surprised, "You know what a currycomb is?"

"I figured you wouldn't like grooming stallions the old-fashioned way with wands."

"True, true, very true…" she grinned, continuing on, "Then of course, I'd love to meet Orlando Bloom in person…" Draco stopped fidgeting on the floor in shock, before he groaned. "Oh no, you're not talking about that prat who can't decide what way to keep his hair in for more than a week?"

"Actually, yes."

"Bloody hell Daisy, the guy's a—"

"One more insult and I leave you here indefinitely." Draco shut his mouth, but he wasn't happy to do it and continued to mutter things beneath his breath.

She sat down beside him—sliding a pillow beneath his head simply because he looked uncomfortable—curling her legs beneath her as she did so. "You know, this is one of the only ways I can think of to make you talk to me." Draco looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "Do you always spellbind guys to the flood? What other skeletons are in that pristine-looking closet of yours?"

"Dreams/fantasies that include chocolate, cherries and silk sheets, but let's not go there." Draco blinked. My, she was blunt. He kept forgetting that.

"No, continue, I'm intrigued." He urged, in his all-too-well-known Malfoy drawl.

"Actually, I don't think I will. It might give you ideas." Her lips curved into a grin, "Now, as we have gotten over the sexual innuendo, we return to the subject of you driving us through the streets of London."

"I'm a Malfoy."

She put on a fake pained expression as if he'd sunk low enough to bring his bloodline into it. "I'm a Granger." Hmm, for some reason, that didn't seem to carry as much weight as Malfoy. She'd have to look into it. She strove to continue, "Which means I have absolutely nothing to say about that topic, but more on the one I was wanting to discuss. Come on. You have to go anyway, and the fact that you're being a prat because you're trying to shirk your duty."

"How, in any way is this my duty?"

"Come on. You've been down the streets of London, how many cars zooming past your way have a girl driving and a male looking at the roadmap?"

"I don't think I ever bothered to look at them." Hermione rolled her eyes, "But as that's beside the point, I'll go back to begging. _Plllllleeeeeeeaaaaassssssseeeeeee_?" They must've looked ridiculous with Hermione on her knees and Draco crossing his arms, still lying on the floor.

"Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Well, I should think it would matter more to you," she replied, matter-of-factly, "After all, you're the one who'd be accused of being gay."

Draco's eyes narrowed, "I'm a Malfoy." Apparently, that was his standard response to anything that ranged from financial business to sexuality.

"That supposed to mean somethin'?"

"I can not be, and never will be, gay."

(AN: I don't care if it's in the middle of the fic, it's an opportune moment! The above line is said in this ff, and this ff ONLY. No offense is meant to HP/DM lovers.)

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, the big bad Pureblood's insulted."

"Oh you know you've got the hots for me."

At this the brunette rolled her eyes, "Oh boy," she said dryly, "You've seen right through me. I want you. I need you. Oh baby. Oh baby." [1]

Draco grinned, "See?" he told her flippantly, ignoring the sarcastic barb.

"BACK to the topic at hand, as I have been reduced to begging, I will. Please, please, **please** be the designated driver?"

Draco wrinkled his perfectly formed eyebrows, "Isn't that the guy who always stays sober?"

Hermione blinked, side-tracked. "Yes."

"There's my biggest excuse. Keeping me away from alcohol when you people are is about as impossible as Millicent Bulstrode seducing Potter into her bed."

He caught the disgusted look on her face, "She's got a thing for Harry?"

"Just be glad you didn't share the same common room as her for the last three years."

"I don't want to know."

"Just remember, you're the one who asked."

Hermione suddenly frowned, "You're doing this just to get me off-topic aren't you?"

He gave her his most innocently injured look. "I would never dream of it!"

"Then be the bloody driver!"

He paused, cocking his head as if thinking some important, profound thought. Then, "No."

Hermione nearly growled in frustration. "Drive us around London or I'll personally clip ever precious hair on your head short."

Draco's eyes grew wide with horror.

"In clumps."

Even wider.

"And then, I just might dye it black."

They'd reached astronomical proportions now, and the poor boy seemed to have stopped breathing.

"And maybe I'll even—"

"I'll do it! I'll do it!" he finally yelled. 

Hermione grinned triumphantly, "Good. I'll be sure to inform Professor Dumbledore. _Immediately_." Giggling, she sprang up as gracefully as a gazelle and ran for the portrait hole, exiting with a greeting to the inhabitants of it.

He was silent for a moment, before comprehension found him. "**DAISY! GET ME UP OFF THIS BLOODY FLOOR!**"

This was not supposed to happen! Women were supposed to be groveling at **his** feet, not the other way around! Whoever was in charge of making the world go round was certainly out on a cigarette break because this is NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! Only one thing left to say now. "Why me? Why, why, why, why, why?"

~*~*~*~

"Nagini?" the girl froze, turning around slowly, recognizing the voice.

"Harry!" Oh how could she explain this, how could she explain to him that… she looked down in sudden confusion, that she was carrying a blanket and a pile of female lingerie? _What the hell?_

"What the hell?" He'd stolen the words right out of her mouth.

She was still blinking at her burden before shrugging, and asking a simple question. "Yes?"

"Why are you walking around the halls carrying… that?"

She shrugged, "I don't know."

"I… see…"

"Well I certainly do not. One minute, I was carrying Miss Parkinson back into the school, the next I find that she has been replaced with a pile of underclothes."

"Pansy? But she's—"

Nagini raised an eyebrow, "Pansy Parkinson, as annoying and vapid as she may be, is a Slytherin, and with that comes a great ability of knowing what to do in desperate times."

"You knew? I mean, you know that she wasn't dead?—but that can't be true because even _Dumbledore_ said she was dead—or did she do some kind of Dark magic you think?—or maybe…"

She refrained from rolling her eyes. This was probably the reason Draco so hated him throughout the years of his stay at Hogwarts. She well remembered his information from the ride on the train. "Well then… since I have thoroughly confused both myself as well as you, I shall be quite willing to give this pile to the house elves and offer you my lowly company over a mug of coffee."

Harry perked up. "Coffee?" he asked, "Black?"

"Just the way I like it." she replied. She wasn't lying. She did like it. Sugar was for goody-goodies. All the bad guys know you use Sweet 'N Low when you're truly desperate. Honestly.

She had the sudden feeling, someone had slipped Prozac (for indeed, she had learned much about Muggle medicine) into her afternoon pumpkin juice. For she was feeling much more… human that ever before, more keen to humor and more… like Hermione when she verbally sparred with Draco Malfoy.

__

Oh on Salazar's ashes… this was not happening, this was NOT happening. She wasn't going, she would not go. No, these strange, squishy feelings had to stop AT ONCE.

Harry paused, raising an eyebrow at her, "Didn't you say you wanted coffee?"

No! Absolutely not! It rots your teeth! It makes you stay up late! It is addictive!

"The house elves already told me that there wasn't any sugar left, but there is Sweet 'N Low if you're desperate…"

Perhaps the above-mentioned things weren't as catastrophic as they had first seemed.

"Very well then… but I choose which packet of Sweet 'N Low I use."

"Is there a difference?" he asked, blinking owlishly at her.

"Of course there is a difference," she told him primly, "You can never know what those companies use to fool you…" she said this with an air of extreme superior knowledge.

Harry shrugged, "Whatever you say."

Nagini led the way, keeping Harry well out of her sight. Why had she suggested this in the first place? Ah, again the immortal question. Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

~*~*~*~

Ron was stuck in a complicated situation. Despite his very firm resolution not to hit girls, (especially after his outburst at Hermione) he was near the end of his tether as Millicent Bulstrode cornered him in a corridor and had hard-pressed him for information about his second-best friend. For a second, he thought she was talking about Hermione and he cringed at the horrifying thoughts that ran through his head. But when she clarified, with a blush that made her face a deep puce, that she was talking about Harry, his imagination's supply of images were no less unsettling. But, as he had yet to reach Millicent Bulstrode's height and weight, he answered her questions monotonously until he was ready to throw caution to the winds and just tell her to go and explain in detail her kinky fetishes to someone else who might actually be INTERESTED!

"Oh, just let him alone Bulstrode." Drawled a voice from the shadows, making Millicent step backwards, pouting, which made even Ron grimace. He turned to look for his savior as Millicent, still grumbling, shuffled away, and the person peeled herself from the wall that had been leaned on throughout the exchange. For a second, he thought it was almost like a female Draco Malfoy… she had the much-hated drawl down pat. However, he didn't seem ready to rip into her as he did with the albino bastard.

But then he realized who it was, and his jaw dropped.

"Blaise Zabini?"

She raised an eyebrow, "What? Not happy to see me?"

"As happy as anyone who'd been rescued from… that." he replied stiffly, gesturing to the directing that Millicent Bulstrode had departed from.

"You're quite welcome. But I have come to you for information, if you are willing to part with it."

"What is it…?" he asked, with a great sense of foreboding. What was she going to come up with? Information about the secret meetings that Dumbledore held? The Gryffindor password? How to get into the Restricted Section without being caught? 

"Harry Potter. Boxers or briefs?"

Well, that wasn't exactly as cataclysmic as he'd first suspected. But she was a _Slytherin_, what else could he expect? "Um… why?"

"Got a bet going with Bulstrode. She desperately wants to know, and desperate to know for sure that he wears briefs. I sometimes wonder at her. So? It'll earn me fifty galleons."

Ron stared at her, "And why the hell would you come to _me_?" he asked, rather insulted at the implication that he regularly checked what his best friend's choice of underclothes was.

She grinned, showing most of her teeth as she did so. He vaguely thought they would've made Hermione's parents proud. "Come on, you can't mean to say that even with you two sharing the same dormitory, the same Quidditch changing room, you've never _seen_?!"

"If I even have, why would I tell you?"

Blaise shrugged, "It was an innocent enough question." she replied, "And I needed to show Bulstrode that she was _not_ telepathic when it came to Harry's underclothes. She regularly tries to get a glimpse whenever he's up on his broom on the Quidditch pitch."

Ron felt his face pull into a grimace, "Oh dear _God_… the next time I see him, I'm warning Harry."

"I feel I should be rewarded then. Boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers." He replied, watching her smile again. It wasn't that bad a smile, and it would've been even prettier if she'd turned it up full watt. As it was, he was merely stunned, not instantly falling before her, promising his everlasting love and devotion. "Perfect! Thanks Weasley." She caught sight of his half-finished Potions homework before saying, "You know, that's supposed to be _rotweed_, not _roadweed_. You'd be turned into a caterpillar if you added rotweed."

He looked at her suspiciously, "And why should I believe you?"

"Because I don't want my new pipeline of Gryffindor matters (because I know Dumbledore talks to most of you about issues like Pansy Parkinson more than us Slytherins) to be suddenly without vocal chords." She smiled prettily after her answer. Oh the vixen, the vixen! "Besides, Pansy's death is enough to handle at this school. Who would replace Dumbledore if he was taken away a second time? Professor Mc-I'm-still-a-virgin-and-I'm-very-bitter-thank-you-very-much-Gonagall."

Ron couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. "That _is_ how I see her, yes." He replied, grinning.

She returned his grin, before her grin changed into a slightly sultry smile of her own, making Ron gulp with nervousness. Despite the light-hearted banter, he was not used to conversing with Slytherins over an extended period of time without hexes cast or insults thrown. Into his ear, her lips tickling the sensitive skin of his earlobe, and his sudden inability to move, she whispered. "And now the most important question… Ron Weasley… boxers or briefs, I wonder?" 

Then, while he was still in shock, she disappeared down the corridor. "I'll be sure to find this one out firsthand." She called back, before disappearing. _Dear god, how did that happen? Blaise Zabini trying to be civil?!_ And why was he—oh dear god, oh dear, god! "Why did it have to be her?" he muttered plaintively to no one in particular. Couldn't he just have stuck to his once-crush with Fleur Delacoure and kept it at that? "Why? Why, why, why, why, why?" 

~*~*~*~

[1] = taken completely unchanged from the novelization of 10 Things I Hate About You. You'll find out that I will randomly do that at odd moments.

End of Chapter. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really am! I know it's short, shorter than anything I've done for a long while. But to keep it in continuation with the previous chapter, I had to cut it short as it is! But that means the next chapter comes out sooner too! Uhm, yeah. So… still working out plotline, and I think I've just screwed up any chance I had of finding one again. But… yeah.

And about Nagini's apparent sugar high… well, I was eating chocolate (yum), and reading Maya's 'Draco the Amazing Bouncing… Rat?', and laughing my head off. I love it! And basically all those factors spawned our ever sarcastic Nagini Whetlyn.


	11. Chapter 10

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Ten

Koneko-chan Says!

Stefani: *slumps over keyboard*

Nanashi: *pokes her in the side*

Stefani: *does not respond*

Nanashi: *nudges her*

Stefani: *does not respond*

Chibi-Relena: *jumps up onto table* *pokes Stefani's head*

Nanashi: It does not seem to work.

Chibi-Relena: *cocks head* *nudges Stefani's head* Does not seem to work.

Heero-chan: *comes into room* *looks at Nanashi and Chibi-Relena's attempts at waking the sleeping authoress* *sighs* *very loudly* IS THAT DRACO MALFOY PERFORMING A STRIPTEASE JUST ON YOUR GARAGE ROOF?!

Stefani: *leaps up* WHERE?! WHERE?! *dashes for window* WHERE?!

Heero-chan: He left. Now write, before Angel comes back for revenge on the previous short chapter.

Chibi-Relena: The previous **insane** chapter. Do you remember _how_ many readers bombarded you with emails because of that?

Stefani: *sniff, sniff* No Draco… *grumble, grumble* Fine. *resumes work* *types in random nonsense*

Angel: *appears in a puff of purple smoke* *warning tone* Stteeeeeeefffffff… 

Stefani: EEEEEK! *goes back to work hurriedly*

~*~*~*~

When Hermione finally came back to the portrait of James and Sirius, she found them with several scantily clad women in Egyptian belly-dance costumes. Sirius grinned down at her, and the girl on his lap frowned. She frowned back at her with all might, before saying, "_Serpentia Rulius_," and entering.

The first thing she noticed was a very disgruntled Draco Malfoy still lying there in the middle of a sea of parchment. "Oh dear…" she gasped, having completely forgotten about where she'd left Draco. He was asleep. She went to him, kneeling down beside him, brushing a hand across his cheekbone, to see if he was truly asleep. It seemed he was. Undoing the many buttons of her cloak, she covered him quickly before taking out her wand and whispering the words to release him from the spell. Then she got up and went for her room.

Going straight for her desk, she opened her Arithmancy book, and took out several pieces of parchment, bent on finishing her homework. However, this did not work out as she had planned, as the numbers began swimming in front of her eyes, though she tried studiously to continue. The problem was, she just _didn't care_ all of a sudden. She had been all fired to go when she'd walked through the portrait hole… now all she wanted to do was sleep.

Then it clicked. "_DUMBLEDORE!_" That was it! This was all some great conspiracy amongst the staff members! They were against her! All of them! This was not supposed to be HAPPENING!

…

…

She was still sleepy. Grumbling, she got up, closing her book with a muffled "thump" and marched towards her bed, before sighing, grabbed a pillow and made a U-turn, back towards the common room where she lay herself out on the couch beside the still-sleeping Malfoy progeny. If this was what all the professors wanted to go through this stupid scheme in order to do, why not humor them? It might as well get her on Snape's good side, as he too seemed to want this to be happening… that is, he did not object to it. Leaping over him, she landed with a light bounce on the couch (which issued a small "ouch" as she did so) before she settled down with her pillow into a nice comfortable sleeping position and closed her eyes.

__

The room was large, and full of ancient-looking objects, extremely well-dusted, oppressively so in fact. Only half-conscious of what she was doing she reached for them, examining several of the more exotic-looking ones by eye, not trusting this place which hinted of too-strong wizarding magic, to touch them. The door slammed open as she did so, and she whirled in a fright, suddenly terrified of who owned these horrific articles.

"Get in there, boy." The words were sharp and short, and she cringed as she looked for someplace to hide, before she found herself face-to-face with the older Malfoy, who's searching eyes passed right over her, before pushing the younger one, Draco into the room. His eyes were downcast, even as he stumbled forward, but as soon as he lifted his eyes, they widened the moment they saw her, then flew to his father, who seemed not to notice her at all. They returned to stare at her, asking the obvious question… 'What are you doing here?'

She shrugged back, unable to give an answer. She pointed at Lucius now, and his eyes returned to his father, who was glaring at him. "You know why you're here."

"You want me to join you and the others in their plot to make me Voldemort's heir. You want me to become a Death Eater. You want me to follow in your footsteps and grovel at the feet of the Dark Lord." He replied tonelessly, eyes kept steadfastly on a point somewhere over his father's shoulder.

Hermione came closer, unable to help herself. She stood between the two now, and Draco's eyes were diverted… he turned to her now, watching her, even as he continued to speak his father's wishes. His eyes warned her to stay back, warned her of what his father could do to her if he could see her… was she just invisible? Could he hear her if she talked, touch her if she came close enough? Or was she simply an observer, to watch, but not able to do anything.

"Look here boy," his diatribe was interrupted by his father roughly grasping him by the collar. He had grown tall enough so that he was almost eye-level to the man now, but that did not mean he could hurt him. Oh no, Lucius Malfoy would not be challenged, especially not by his own son. "You **will** aspire to bear the Dark Mark with dignity, to be able to serve the Dark Lord as he wipes this world free of the Muggle society. And you **will** bring me the power of being the Dark Lord's right-hand man."

Draco was strangely calm, "You will never be his right-hand man, Father. The snake will always come first. He will always choose a serpent over your cowed, sniveling form."

He was knocked sideways with the ferocity of Lucius Malfoy's blow, thrown towards Hermione, though Lucius could not see her, he seemed to be able to hear her, as a scream managed to tear its way out of her mouth. She instinctively caught him, wrapping her arms around him to prevent him from hitting the floor, and with a bright flare of light the moment they made contact, the dream shattered around them.

Waking up screaming had never been a favorite way for Hermione Granger to wake up. Waking up screaming with someone quite close to her screaming was even worse. Her eyes flew open, to come, once again, face to face with Draco Malfoy. That made it twice in a row.

"What did you **do**?!" he yelled, immediately turning to her, his pale eyes sparking, as he grabbed her by the shoulders. Having been rudely waken up, Hermione certainly did not appreciate this 'loving embrace'.

"I was dreaming." She replied bluntly, keeping it short and sharp. "And I believe you were too."

"I—" With difficulty, he took a deep breath and let go of her, moving away. Stiffly, he tried talking in a conversational tone, "You let me up off the floor."

"Oh yeah… right… sorry about that." Her face flushed as she rearranged herself into a sitting position. "The dream. You had the same one as me."

She raised an eyebrow at Draco's direct statement. "Possibly." She allowed, shrugging her shoulders, "You, me, a ferret floating around in a punch bowl and a night of wild, kinky sex?"

"Dammit, I'm being serious. Just tell me the bloody **truth**!"

Hermione nodded. It was true… she had been a bitch leaving him on the floor like that and forgetting him. "Yes. I was in your house. You and your father came in. Had what I would hardly call a 'civil conversation'. You got shoved, I caught you, I saw fireworks, I scream, you scream, I wake up."

He was silent for a moment before saying, "Yes, all right… that's… one interpretation of it."

With a sigh, she stood up, straightening her clothes properly on her frame from when they'd previously been twisted around her as she slept. Noticing this made Draco realize that the cloak still tangled around his legs was hers. Now, if he had been Potter, or even Weasley, he might have been touched by the gesture. But he was Draco Malfoy, and with an indifferent shrug, picked it up and handed to her with a simple, "Thank you."

"Uh… you're welcome… I guess?" His face certainly was a study, switching expressions quicker than she could perceive them. Then, he stood up, swishing his way amongst all the scattered pieces of parchment, heading for his rooms.

"You know, I **was** serious about the ferret in the punch bowl dream, you know!" she called after him, quite cheekily, she must say so herself.

He turned back once, a faint smile flitted on his face, with just a touch of his old evil leer. "I know."

This left her with a raised eyebrow. Interesting. This was becoming very interesting indeed.

~*~*~*~

Deep in the dungeons, Snape was still pondering, even as his hands quickly and deftly mixed and measured the ingredients that he was experimenting with. That new professor… he shook his head, trying to get her out of his head. She was a danger to the students as well as the staff. Why Professor Dumbledore continued to admit these strange DADA teachers was beyond him. Of course, he had accepted a former Death Eater, so there wasn't much he could say to that point.

He sighed, pushing away a length of dark hair from his face. His life did not require any more mysteries than those that he'd already had. It had taken much time and hard work, but he had finally been able to be accepted back into the Death Eaters' throng, if only on the outer edges, which had to be expected. And they were planning something. Not Voldemort, no… but the Death Eaters, and all traces led straight to Lucius Malfoy.

He supposed it had to be simple. They wanted nothing more than power, and the Dark Lord could give it to them. And all the Dark Lord wanted was…

He snorted, the Wonder Boy of Hogwarts of course. What evil wizard didn't want to deliver the bane of the Dark Lord's existence to him? But when? When and where would they catch him?

Wards had been set up of course, everywhere, including Privet Drive so that even his extended family was safe, no matter how much they loathed the boy, and how much they wanted him not to exist. They had to stay alive. And there were wards everywhere in that castle, just to keep that foolish boy alive. And the boy wanted nothing more than to jump right into the dangers the entire wizarding world was trying to keep him from, playing the role of the great vanquishing hero.

"Do I sense a touch of bitterness, Severus?" he turned, in the middle of stirring a potion vigorously, to face a mild-faced Dumbledore.

"Headmaster." He acknowledged, but made no other answer.

"Sa Lai has told me of the… situation that has happened down here last… I must say, you reacted in a… peculiar way, did you not?" His bright blue eyes were piercing and they were searching his face for the truth, a truth that Severus hoped more than anything to hide. Truthfully, he still had no idea.

"I do not know why, Headmaster, that I did what I did. But if should not bother either me or her, I assure you, it should not bother yourself either."

The old man shook his head smiling, "Severus, you will never change…"

"I mean not to, Headmaster." His voice was full of conviction.

"Perhaps, perhaps…" he conceded softly, shaking his head again, and looking past him at the ingredients lying on the lab bench. "And how is the potion coming along?" he asked in an entirely different tone of voice.

"I'm coming up with another one… the other one that she actually tried… did not work as well as I wanted it to."

"Not at all, you mean?"

Pride. That was all that prompted his next comment. "She should not have taken that potion like a fool without the proper precautions. It was quite unfinished, and quite unnecessary!"

"I see."

Dumbledore's voice was echoed with one from the doorway and the two men turned to face the new professor's strangely calm face. Silver eyes seemed to glow in the semi-darkness as she came down the stairs in small, graceful steps. She stopped several feet away from the two of them, and while Dumbledore kept tactfully silent, Snape would have said something if she hadn't held up a hand, lips pursing dangerously.

"I was going to thank you, Severus." She told him, adding his name at the end as an afterthought. She held up a vial, "This is my own blood. In order for the potion to work, I assume it has to work for each individual. And what works better for a potion for vampires than what we crave most?" She set it down on the lab bench before stonily walking away, back up the stone steps and out into the dungeon hall. The footsteps halted for a brief moment, her voice floated back down to the two of them, "Fool that I am, I have years beyond imagining, and I have seen more than you can ever imagine." Then they continued as they soon faded away completely.

Dumbledore, with a flurry of his many-colored robes moved to follow her, "I see the lady's feelings have been bruised by your cynicism. I take my leave, after seeing to it that you are the one who is going to be asking the Bewitching Seraphs to our Yule Ball."

He wanted to do nothing more than groan, right then and there. "Headmaster, I have many things—"

"Can none of them wait, then?" he asked mildly, as he began to walk towards the door, "I take my leave." He disappeared up the steps and down the corridor with a hidden smile on his face.

Severus then groaned, slumping into a chair nearest him. "Of all the bloody lunatics in this school who actually like those stupid bands adolescents like so much, why did he have to choose me?"

His hand strayed to his neck for what seemed like the twentieth time, at where the bite marks had been. He remembered the humming waves of heat, of the pure ecstasy… he shook his head. Vampire's Kiss indeed. He was lucky enough to have survived it, not to mention actually liking it. He was not an idiot. He would not go lusting after vampires like so many others who had suffered one of their bites did. He was Severus Snape. And in his own eyes, that meant there should no longer be anything more for him that penance for all that he had ever done. The potion needed to be stirred again.

He was at it for a few more minutes before stopping in disgust. This was not helping. That Angel had annoyed him too much for him to concentrate on Potions' brewing. The only cure for that was very simple however.

Time to go and give Potter hell.

~*~*~*~

Nagini shook her head, her eyes blinking. She felt like she'd been hit by four Stunning spells all in a row. "Do not tell me that I consumed alcohol instead of caffeine…" she muttered, placing her head carefully in her arms, as she slumped over the table. Harry raised an eyebrow, "Uhm, no… actually, you did drink coffee… but you seem… back to normal now."

"Normal?" Nagini's head came up so quickly, Harry barely had time to lean back, to avoid her breaking his nose. "Oh, it must have been that girl! She hit me with a Confusion spell, I know it!" Anger flitted through her, though she suppressed it very well indeed.

"Who?"

"Parkinson." She growled, standing up. "After I found her, gave her another choice, she goes and throws a spell at me. Oh dear… what did I do?"

"Uhm… muttered a lot about Sweet 'N Low… carried around a lot of lingerie…" at this point he blushed, "And… uh… some other stuff." He added lamely.

She groaned again, "Did I try to seduce you into my bed?"

Harry turned red, "Uhm… no… but I think you, uh, tried to kiss me…"

She smacked her forehead against her arm, "Oh, stupid, stupid bint, when I get my hands on her…"

"Potter!" Harry turned round to face the roundness of a large belly. His eyes slowly traveled vertically, up until he reached the face up Millicent Bulstrode. He blinked. "Yes…?" he asked, maintaining as much politeness as was possible.

"The Yule Ball's coming up."

"Yes…"

"You're going with me."

Harry blinked. And was silent for a moment. Then, "I'm… what?"

"You're going to the Yule Ball with me."

"I…"

Nagini lifted her head, groaned as she saw who it was and then rolled her eyes, "Give it a rest, Bulstrode. Didn't you know he's already got a girlfriend? Cho Chang? Ravenclaw Seeker? Ring any bloody bells in that thick skull of yours?" Anger and annoyance made her snappish. It was not a good combination.

Millicent became almost defensive, "He's always hanging out with… with _you_ so how was I supposed to know they hadn't split up?"

Nagini rolled her eyes again, "You realize that if they were to split up, the entire wizarding world will have known about it?"

Millicent let loose a low growl, before flouncing away. Or… _trying_ to flounce away… the effects left more to be desired.

Shaking her head, she snapped her fingers in front of Harry's face, effectively shaking him out of his silent stupor. "You really should know that Millicent Bulstrode is quite taken with you." Harry's face twisted in barely hidden disgust. "The girl tried to turn Hermione into a cat last year and Ron into a bloody rat. She screwed it up and got them half-changed… they were walking around with tails and ears and I believe Ron had whiskers for the next week or so. Dumbledore thought it too funny in order to change them back."

Nagini smiled, her tongue languidly swiping her canines. "Ah, well I would have expected the girl to have made a blunder of herself. And I'm sure it didn't turn out too badly did it? I would not like to think of the repercussions of your two friends actually turning into cat and mouse."

Harry nodded, "I suppose you're right. But I never have liked her and it's doubtful I will—"

He was interrupted by a girl outfitted in Ravenclaw Quidditch robes slide into the seat next to him, placing an arm around his neck and smiling, first at him, then at Nagini. "Ello, love." she said softly, nudging his cheek with her nose. "Who's the girl?"

"Nagini Whetlyn." At the girl's blank look, she added, "Head Girl?" 

"OH!" The girl laughed immediately, holding out a hand to her, "Cho Chang. Ravenclaw. I'm only a prefect though… Mum and Dad weren't too happy with me…" she trailed off for a moment before shaking it off, "But that's all right… you and Hermione Granger were always smarter than me. Well, her for sure, you more likely than not…" She paused again, "I'm babbling, aren't I? I don't, usually. Babble, I mean." She groaned, leaning her head into what seemed like a familiar place at the crook of Harry's neck, "Oh, I'm acting like such a silly bint today, it's not even funny."

"You too?" Nagini asked, almost conversationally, "I was hit by a Confusion spell by a girl that I thought was dead, how about you?"

Harry's eyes widened as he stared at Nagini, then at Cho. It was true, she wasn't usually all this… (bubbly, her term was?) insane… could there really have been a connection? He felt the same, fuzzy feeling again whenever there was a 'something' going on, and more than likely, he'd be thrown into the middle of it.

Her head came back up. "Well… now that you mention it… I swear, I think Pansy Parkinson must have joined up with Moaning Myrtle… I could have sworn I saw her in the Charms corridor. Granted, she didn't look _that_ much silvery and glow-y and everything and she _did_ look like she was holding a wand but…" she shook her head, smiling slightly as Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Ooh, is that coffee? Is there Sweet 'N Low? If there isn't, black is fine too—did I ever tell you Harry that you can never go wrong with—"

"That's er—actually, yes you've told me. Sweet 'N Low, better than sugar, right?"

"Yes indeed! Now, is there anymore coffee?" she asked brightly and Nagini was looking at the girl was complete horror. "Oh on Salazar's ashes, was I _honestly_ like that?" she asked Harry.

"Well… uhm…" he shrugged a little, "Close?"

"Why oh why did you not throw a curse and end it all mercifully?"

"Too many questions."

"Ah."

He sighed, picking up Cho in his arms, as she continued to chatter along mindlessly about miscellaneous things in general. "Would you like to come with me as we try to get her in the Ravenclaw common room?"

"Is this inter-house sort of cavorting allowed?" she asked, surprised.

"No, but we do it anyway. Cho, er, Cho?" he asked her, shaking her slightly as she seemed to have become extremely enamoured of the ceiling. "Ooh, look at that, the snow's falling! I want to play with it! Catch some for me?"

"Cho dear, we're taking you back to your common room… er, do you remember the password?"

"Password?"

"To open the door to your common room."

She blinked for a few moments before nodding, "Oh! The common room! Sheep!"

"Sheep?" she nodded vehemently, before continuing to coo about the ceiling. He turned, almost desperately to Nagini, "She's worse than you were! Well? Would you like to come?" Nagini shrugged, getting up. "I have nowhere else to be. And despite everything embarrassing having to do with this, I find her antics faintly amusing." A smile with the same Slytherin-ness that Malfoy could inject in his leer, appeared on her face. "And then of course, there's always _after_ the spell's worn off and we can relate every single mortifying detail back to her."

He sighed, shaking his head, but still smiling, "I can tell why the Hat put you in Slytherin. Mind you, they wanted to put _me_ in Slytherin too, but—we'll not get into that." he added hastily.

Nagini smiled, "Nothing could be worse than knowing you belong in Slytherin, then having that Hat tell you that you should be in Hufflepuff."

"_You_? In Hufflepuff?"

"Yes. I in Hufflepuff. I allow you the right to titter."

Harry burst out laughing.

"I said titter, mind you, not full-out laughter."

"Well, what more can I say? Sheep."

Nagini blinked, "Pardon me?"

Harry frowned, kicking a curtained wall with a sneakered foot, "Sheep! What the—come on you blasted door, sheep!"

"I think the word you're looking for is 'lambchops'?"

From behind them, all three of them turned to face Gabrielle LaPointe, fifth year Ravenclaw. The curtain leaped up, and the wall slid to the side, showing the way into the Ravenclaw common room. "Now, why is it that you have our Prefect talking about peppermint sticks?"

Harry carefully made his way into the common room, ignoring the strange, questioning looks he was receiving from the other Ravenclaws and lay her down on an unoccupied sofa. "She's a little… out of it." he attempted to say, "She got hit by a Confusion spell and… it's… well… taken affect." The girl he was facing, frowned, rolling her eyes at him, as if he were the most biggest idiot since Neville Longbottom.

"I can see that. How come you haven't taken her to the Hospital Wing?"

"It has to… wear out."

"So she's going to be talking about… chipmunks for how long?"

"About an hour?"

"Fine. Good day." The wall closed back up and the curtain snapped back down, right in front of him.

Nagini's eyebrows were raised. "Quite choosy about the company they keep, aren't they?" Harry sighed, leaning back against a different wall, running his fingers through his shock of black hair. "Er… yeah. They don't really like me all that much."

The girl smiled, "Male or female?"

Harry looked up, "Mostly the guys I suppose. The Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs never got over Cedric."

She smiled, remembering the whispered story of the last Triwizard Tournament Hogwarts had hosted, "Then I suppose that should have answered your question."

He gave her a blank look, "What?" he asked, unintelligently.

"Harry Potter, you really are quite ignorant of what most of the female population of this school think of you? If you were not Cho's boyfriend, I believe you would have found more women than simply myself appearing in your dormitory. And much less clothed than I was."

He turned red. "Er…" He managed to utter, running his hand through his hair again, as an embarrassed reflex this time.

She gave him one of her rare smiles, "You are sweet, you know that? Hermione told me you were."

He blinked. "What? Hermione was talking about me?"

He paused. "I'm sweet?" the word seemed to sound distasteful coming from him. For a moment, it was as if Ron's attitude was rubbing off on him.

"Yes. Yes you are." she replied, as she turned away. "And now that Cho is safely put away in her common room with all of her extremely worried housemates, I suppose I should take my leave."

"Or you two could follow me and continue with the work you have neglected in making the Veritassium."

Snape's voice stopped both adolescents as they were just parting. Harry looked up to face Snape's patented look of complete and utter doom firmly set on his face. Nagini raised an eyebrow, "When have you ever told us that we were to report to you today?"

The tall man glared down at her. "Miss Whetlyn, I had guessed that as Head Girl in this school you would be very much learned at the art of potion making and the exact timings therein. Apparently, you are as about as witless at it than even Longbottom could accomplish."

Nagini's teeth grit together with a harsh sound and if Hermione had been there, or her parents, they would have winced at the damage her teeth had taken. She knew an insult when she heard one. And she wished now more than ever that she could use the power that her master had endowed her with in her creation. The almost unnoticeable sparking appearing in her clenched left fist caused Harry to stare, but Snape thankfully did not notice. Harry spoke up, "We'll go now Professor if we have to. But there was that whole thing with Pansy and then Hermione…"

Snape glared at him, "I am fully aware of both students' predicaments. I assure you, Miss Parkinson's family has been informed and the body has been cremated."

Nagini's face clenched together even more at the mention of the body. She knew full and well that the girl was still alive. She had not done the _Adavra Kedavra_ curse on herself. She was in this castle somewhere. And she had to be found. Immediately.

And when she was found, the Veritassium would come in very handy indeed. "Then we shall go." She grasped the sleeve of Harry's robe and commenced walking away from the Professor, who still stood there, staring at them. For Nagini had forgotten to keep a close watch of her anger and of her powers… and her hand was still glowing a fiery green.

"_Lamia_." he croaked through suddenly dry lips. All thoughts of the vampiress were immediately forgotten at the sight of the green fire. The only ones who had had ever had the power to produce their own green fire without the help of a wand had been the snake-women that the Dark Lord had bred into his services.

That was it. Nagini was a lamia, brought into the school by the Death Eaters to kill Harry Potter. That explained everything.

~*~*~*~

Ron was stumbling back to Gryffindor tower, after his bout with Blaise Zabini when he came quite closer to being trampled by a half-sobbing, half-roaring Millicent Bulstrode. In the middle of her frenzy, she focused on Ron. "What the hell are you doing down here? That bloody tower of yours isn't good enough for you Gryffs now? You have to barge on our territory?"

"I was just coming back up—" Ron actually attempted to explain to her, as he felt handling a still half-sobbing Slytherin should not call for insults… just yet. But of course, she interrupted him, miffing him quite considerably considering the circumstances.

"You Gryffindors are all the same! You're all pig-headed, golden children with haloes all around!" And it looked like a giant sobbing Slytherin female would verily maul him right then and there. And since when did he have a halo?

If he did, he'd probably be cleaning the Potions' benches a few less times a week.

"Bulstrode, just give it up already won't you? You just got told off didn't you?"

Millicent turned on the voice in the corner, "Fuck off Zabini!" she shrieked at her, "It's none of your business."

"I share the same bloody common room as you. It becomes quite annoying when you oh-so-subtly admire the moving photos of Potter that you bribed off of Creevey."

Ron's face twisted in a look of disgust. Millicent took one look back at him, before continuing in her headlong dash back to their common room, bellowing obscenities all the way down the corridor.

Blaise slipped out of her pose of lounging on the wall, and cracked several vertebrates. Flicking her eyes at Ron, she smiled, "It might look all mysterious and sexy to do that, but it sure does nothing else to help you." 

He began to look slightly unnerved. "What was that all about?" he asked, gesturing in the direction of where Millicent had disappeared.

She made a noise of absolute contempt. "She got told off by Potter more likely than not. You're the Gryffindor, you can ask and make sure I'm right."

"Oh." He paused. "What did she ask him…?"

"More likely than not, she told him that he was to take her to the Yule Ball."

That made him laugh. "Not bloody likely!"

"I agree. Oh, and I owe you this." she tossed a cloth bag over to him, which he caught reflexively. The jingling of coins inside, instantly drew his attention and he looked down at it. "What the hell?"

She made a "harumph" sound, "Oh go on and open it, I haven't put any hexes in it."

Ron slowly undid the string and opened it. Even in the dim corridor lights, he caught the flash of gold. "I won the bet. I cheated. You helped. Thank you." She disappeared down the corridor following Millicent, towards the Slytherin common room.

To empty air, he said… "Uhm… you're welcome then?"

~*~*~*~

Draco shut the door, before turning round. Pansy was sitting on his bed, her long legs curled up close to her, her arms hugging them close, and rocking herself back and forth.

It seemed close to impossible to see how Draco's face went from pale to white in the second it took for his heart to beat once. "P-Pansy."

She looked up, his blanket curled around her, and he realized that she was close to completely naked. Shreds of clothing hung on her thin frame, and he could see her cheekbones starkly in her gaunt face. She looked like she'd been to hell and back.

"Draco…" she whispered, her voice cracked and harsh. "I'm… sorry…" she struggled to move, and she could… but slowly, as if she was moving in a vat of syrup.

Draco just stood there, unable to move in blatant shock as he stared at the girl that was supposed to be dead. He had been one of the few who had seen her body. She was supposed to have been cremated…

That was when the door was flung open and in leaped Crookshanks, every ginger hair on his back standing on end. Hermione followed cautiously before she stood still, staring at the visage that seemed only a shell of the former Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh my… god…" she managed to say. Crookshanks stopped short, the fur slowly returning to normal on his fur as he cocked his head quizzically to the side. Meowing his confusion, he shambled a little closer, sniffing the girl cautiously.

Ignoring the stunned pair in the doorway, her attention turned to the cat, her hand reaching out towards it, just as cautiously. Step by step, Crookshanks inched forward, sniffing at her outstretched hand. Then, as if reassuring both himself and her, he licked her hand slowly with long languorous movements of his raspy tongue before leaping for the bed, and closing his eyes, he curled up into a ginger-colored ball on Pansy's lap and began to purr. Shivering slightly, Pansy's eyes slowly came down to watch the furry lump in her lap and her hand trembled as she stroked it once, twice.

She then looked up again, this time towards Hermione. The dull, lifeless eyes widened and she hid her face in her hands, unable to look at the brunette. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, "I'm so, so sorry…"

Hermione was freed from her sudden inability to move and she was striding quickly towards the bed, and towards the girl. She snapped her fingers, as she walked and Crookshanks leaped obediently off the bed, and went behind Draco, nudging the backs of his legs insistently. Hermione rearranged the blanket around the shivering girl so that it covered her completely, and gestured to Draco as Pansy made no move to do anything. How she got here in the first place was a miracle in itself. Slowly, as if his feet had been nailed to the floor, he came forward, and between the two of them, got the girl to Hermione's room, where she immediately hustled Draco out and made for the dresser.

Draco found himself unceremoniously facing a shut door and he turned to face Crookshanks, who was twitching an ear at him humorously. He slumped down in a chair, and Crookshanks made it his business to crawl up onto his stomach and stretch out on it. Patting its fur absentmindedly, he stared up at the ceiling. What was going on? First Hermione turning up in his dreams quite literally, and then Pansy Parkinson appearing in his room when she was supposed to be dead… He shuddered, realizing that she was with Hermione at exactly that moment. What was she? What could she do? What…

That was it, he got up and went to the door, putting his ear to it, listening. 

Hermione on the other side was having a hard time to keep from going back into catatonic shock, and she was literally galvanizing herself into action, grabbing things out of the drawers. "Bloody hell, you're clothes—er, what's left of them anyway—are soaked through… come on, take them off." Pansy clumsily withdrew from Hermione's reaching hand, almost falling off the others side of the bed. Hermione harrumphed in her displeasure. "Come along Pansy… I'm not going to bite you. Just get those things off of you and put these on." She held up the slightly overlarge sweatshirt and jeans she was holding. "I dunno about the underwear thing though…"

"34D."

Hermione's face registered surprise, as Pansy seemed to overcome part of the stupor as soon as her trembling fingers were clenched on the fabrics of the clothes. "Oh… well then… uh… good because…" she dropped it then and there, reaching for another drawer instead of talking. "Me too."

Draco behind the door, lifted his eyebrows. Well, you'd never have known just looking at her beneath those bulky students' robes. Granted, he'd seen a little less of those since they'd begun sharing a common room but still… he continued to listen, though he knew quite well how undignified this would look if anyone should catch him, crouching at the doorway, listening through the keyhole. But, oh hell, he was curious.

He heard the shuffling sound of clothing as Pansy changed, slowly and with some help from Hermione, as she seemed unable to understand her way through the sweater, and began shaking the moment she couldn't see anything.

He heard more shuffling as someone, more likely than not Hermione judging from the pace of the footsteps, that were headed to her bathroom. She re-entered the room not two seconds later, and after another minute, the footsteps, as well as Hermione's encouraging mutterings to Pansy began to drift towards the general direction of her door. At that moment, he was streaking back to the couch as silently as possible, flinging himself down on it (and thankfully not on the cat), he rearranged himself into a dashingly sexy, unconcerned Slytherin pose.

Hermione opened the door, her eyes catching his with a suspicious glance. He raised his eyebrows at her. Then she shrugged and stepped aside, allowing Draco's gaze to pass over to Pansy. He came very close to having his jaw drop. Pansy had never been what you called pretty, especially when he'd first met her. Of course, she'd grown to have quite a figure, and her features had softened slightly, but never, especially with everything that she wore to cover all that, she had the same kind of striking features as Hermione. And all her dark hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, something he had never seen happen before.

His eyes again, rested on Hermione as she led Pansy slowly towards him, and he tensed automatically. But there was no sudden spark of jealousy or rivalry in Pansy's eyes. Hell, there wasn't even a spark of much life. She just stared out at the world with indifference. Draco stood up, coming closer to her, staring at her. She looked up him, her lips twisted into a hesitant frown, and Hermione had melted slightly. But not enough to let her guard down too much, Draco could see that she was fingering her wand in her pocket. Of course she was suspicious. Pansy was supposed to be dead. That could not be stressed enough. She was supposed to be dead.

Then, leading her to the sofa, Hermione pressed a mug of coffee into Pansy's shaking hands (she regularly had the house elves appear with such mugs whenever she was bent on studying), and sat down opposite. 

Draco then lounged on a one-seater, and watched Pansy as she sipped the steaming liquid. Finally, he asked the question. "Why are you here?"

Pansy looked up, her eyes, free of makeup, would have been deep and soulful, if they hadn't looked so empty. "I got away…" she whispered.

Hermione stared at her blankly, leaning forward to hear better. "Got away from what?"

"From the room. She found me. She gave me magic… little magic…" her body shook as she looked up from her mug to Hermione. "One spell."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

"The snake girl… she came, gave me a choice. Knew what I had done." 

Hermione had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "That something had to do with me being in the Hospital Wing, didn't it?"

Pansy slowly nodded. "I knew you had it. Watched you. Remembered it." her eyes went back down to the steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

The two of them were now looking at her gravely. "What was it? What did you know I had?"

"Time."

Draco stared blankly, wondering what on Earth she was talking about. Hermione on the other hand stood up with a shriek, rushing to her room, tearing at a drawer in her desk that had been Charmed shut. "It's not there!" she cried, running back out again, leaving the floor of her room a mess.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" asked Draco irritably, indignant of being left out of the loop.

From beneath Hermione's borrowed sweater, Pansy slowly pulled out the chain around her neck. At the end, something gold glittered in the light of the fireplace. She took off the chain, holding it out in her hand to Hermione.

Draco's eyes widened as he stared at the object in her hand. And Hermione squealed in indignation. "That's mine!"

Pansy's face lifted up to hers once more. "I'm sorry…" she whispered again, the glittering golden thing falling into her lap as she hid her face in her hands and began to sob.

Draco reached out and picked it up. There was no doubt about it. "By Oddball's pink feathered _tutu_, where did you get one of these?" he asked, staring at the golden Time-Turner in his hand.

Hermione sighed, hiding her face, "McGonagall is going to _kill_ me…"

~*~*~*~

End of Chapter. Well… slightly longer, and slightly… saner? I was completely hyper the last time I touched a keyboard, and so the previous chapter was born. Hopefully, this sort of explained some of the things that happened before that probably would never have happened under normal circumstances. And for the record, others may think Cho should be chained inside a boiling cauldron of oil, but I don't find any fault with her… really, I don't. Review me!


	12. Chapter 11

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Eleven

Koneko-chan says!

Stefani: *reads over reviews for previous chapter* *completes sentence* Ahem. "And for the record, others may think Cho should be chained inside a boiling cauldron of oil, but I don't find any fault with her… really, I don't. [Nor do I have a problem with Pansy Parkinson. The characters are there without much explanation on personality _just_ for fanfiction writers to mold them to be what they will. And Pansy is going to _live_ goddammit!]" *smiles sweetly*

Heero-chan: *shakes head*

Chibi-Relena: *stares*

Nanashi: … (Well, that certainly isn't unusual…)

Stefani: Anyway, now that I have given you the previous chapter, are you less inclined to come after me with chainsaws yet? Well now… I know there wasn't much of a cliffhanger ending in the previous chapter (I've never been good at those… *sigh*) but… as it is, if someone would like to find that aforementioned punch bowl (complete with Draco-ferret) it would be much appreciated. *grins*

Nanashi: *groans* More of them?

Stefani: *cocks head* Y'know, you're right… there _are_ beginning to be a lot of stolen bishounen hidden in my closet now… but I'm sure I could fit him into the bathtub… *walks away pondering this thoughtfully*

~*~*~*~

"Where did you get one of these?" he repeated, still staring at the glittering reflections of the firelight on the gold. Hermione wriggled uncomfortably, "Uhm…" she managed, unintelligently.

"Daisy, even _my family_ has only one of these… they're so indispensably rare you can only get one from the Ministry…! How the hell did you manage to get one of these?!"

Hermione snatched at it, but he managed to keep it out of her grasp. Pansy seemed to have faded into the background, almost completely forgotten as Hermione sat back, unable to get at it, and unwilling to start a tussle over it. "McGonagall gave it to me… she got it dispensed from the Ministry because I wanted to take so many extra subjects in our third year and I got it only because of my 'immaculate record'." She snorted, "As if breaking several dozen school rules alongside Ron and Harry could be counted as immaculate."

He nodded slowly, sitting back. "So that's why…" he muttered, staring at the Time-Turner again.

"Why what?"

He looked up again. "Did you think people wouldn't notice? I've seen you in double Arithmancy with the Slytherins, and then hear you talking in the halls later about your Charms class during the same time. People _were_ bound to notice. I'm not surprised Potter and Weasley let that thought travel through their thick skulls."

Hermione shook her head vehemently, eyes flashing in that very same way they always did when she was defending someone. "They _did_ suspect. I wasn't careful enough… and then that whole thing with Sirius and Crookshanks, and Scabbers." She cringed, remembering the horrible memories. She'd hated being on the one side and both of her friends on the other. She had wanted to do what was right… but that hadn't gone over well with either of them.

"Ah, that whole fight with your two boyfriends."

"They're not my boyfriends! They're my best friends… and I stopped using it after that year."

Draco grinned, "So you actually are the same age as me. Eighteen, right?"

Hermione blinked, "You mean… you've used it too?"

"Obviously. Think I'd let that trinket sit there in my father's study to gather dust? Made the best of it. Stopped after a while of course… got bothersome being all dodgy of myself."

Hermione took the now-empty mug from Pansy's hands, and stood up, placing it on the mantle for the house elves, all the while looking thoughtful. "But what are we going to do about her?" she asked, gesturing to Pansy. "We've got to tell the professors, don't we?"

Pansy let out a shriek as soon as the words had been spoken, and cowered, drawing herself into the couch as much as was humanly possible. "No! No, no, no, no, no!"

Draco, for once agreed with her. "Do you honestly believe, Daisy, that they'll take kindly to a girl who's been working Dark Magic, who's supposed be dead, and who's stolen her wand back by some, unimaginable miracle? She'll be in Azkaban, which was where she was headed in the first place."

Hermione read between the lines however, and she nodded solemnly. "And you don't want her to go." Her voice was hollow.

"I wouldn't even wish it on _Potter_, Daisy. And that's about how much I think about that place." He told her frankly, sensing exactly what was running through her head. Pansy was listing her head to the side now, watching the two of them, as they argued.

"We can't just _hide_ her here, from Dumbledore and from the Ministry!"

"Do you honestly think that crackpot Fudge will do anything more than throw her into Azkaban? Come on Daisy, you're much more intelligent than that!"

"So we should just hide her here in our dormitories for the rest of her life? I didn't think you were that much of an idiot!"

"No… I'll tell Dumbledore myself… but not now… not now…" Pansy repeated quietly, looking up between the two, her hands reaching up and twisting at the tail of dark hair over her shoulder with her fingers.

Hermione turned to her, placing her hands on Pansy's shoulders awkwardly, unused to talking to the Slytherin without exchanging insults. "Why not? What happened since you were locked up and Nagini gave you… gave you… wait, what _did_ she give you?"

Pansy seemed steadier now, and she explained, "She's a snake… she gave me one of her fangs, and said I could do magic. One spell. She gave me a choice… and I took it. I knew you had a Time-Turner, Hermione… and I used the Summoning Spell…" she shivered. "It took so long I thought it wouldn't work, and that Nagini was trying to trick me…" She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing unfamiliarly and she reached up instinctively to touch it again. "Then I went back… and I found my wand, just before they were going to lock it up… and I had to escape. Someone must've seen me… I ran down, through the dungeons. I got lost." She snorted, disgusted at herself, "A Slytherin, being lost in the dungeons. But they went down so far… and I found… I found…" she looked up at the two of them, her eyes wide with remembered horror, "It was a crypt… and there were names scrawled on the walls… stained… red… all over the walls… over and over…"

Awkwardly, Hermione placed her arms around the shaking girl, as she relived the horror in the telling of it, "They were the names of the four Founders… they were there… and it wasn't… wasn't _right_…"

"What do you mean 'right'?" asked Draco, apprehensively, curls of a sickening feeling slowly twisting around his stomach.

"They were… still… _rotting_… like they'd died only a little while ago… and it's been_ hundreds_ of years since they died… and there were things _laughing_ at me… all around the room, and I couldn't get away from that horrid laughter for so long…" She shuddered. "The door disappeared behind me… I was stuck, and the walls were glowing… a horrid green, and shadows were dancing… all around me… and I was so scared, all by myself…" Hermione's grip around her shoulders tightened as she attempted to comfort the terrified girl. There was no wonder, she had still been in shock.

"But I found a way out… and I had to climb… and I thought I would never get out…" The worst part was over, and she was slightly calmer now, taking deep breaths in between her sentences.

"Then what happened?"

"Nagini… that girl, she found me. Tried to bring me inside… but I was still scared of her… I cast a Confusion spell, got away. Cho Chang was there… she saw me… I had to spell her too… and I got here… and… and…" she shook her head, "And I found you."

"You missed something." Draco told her, and she looked up at him.

"You did." Hermione agreed, "If someone saw you, how did you have enough time to make that corpse there in your room?"

"My what?" she stared at the two of them blankly, "I'm not dead."

"But… the professors! They found… they all found…"

"They found your body, Pansy. They found it in your room, Professor Sa Lai and the others."

"I didn't do it!" Pansy stood up, standing in front of them, her hands clasped within each other. "I'm not dead, and I'm still here and I only took the Time Turner and my wand. Why would I even try to fake my own death when I knew I was coming back?!"

"Then who did?" Hermione replied slowly, watching Pansy through probing, the mild suspicions in them quite hidden in order not to bruise the girl's feelings anymore. Hell if what she was saying was true, then for sure, she had handled enough whilst Hermione was lying unconscious in the hospital wing.

~*~*~*~

"What do you mean you knew?" he asked, his voice still low, still silky, but with an undertone of complete rage.

Dumbledore's expression was still mild, but his eyes were not sparkling. "I mean that of course I knew that Miss Whetlyn was a lamia. I even know whose. Professor Trelawney is not the only one in this castle who has the Inner Eye. There is much in the future that I see… and which I fear will come to be unless I do something about it… I believe Miss Whetlyn is the key."

"She is in league with the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "So were you, Severus. So are so many parents of the students in this school. It's not something we can completely turn our faces away from."

Severus flinched as if he'd been physically struck. "And, if you would so believe, is Miss Sa Lai." 

Severus looked up, his eyes widening. "And you choose her to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Dumbledore smiled, and for a moment, he looked old, old beyond reckoning as weariness settled down on his shoulders. "She is like you Severus, when she was still human she was working for Voldemort as a Dark Mage, a very powerful one. Too powerful, that she worried Voldemort himself, and so he had her made into a vampire. He limited her to the confines of the night alone, and though she has managed to work around it, keeping her talisman against the sunlight on her at all times, she is still weak while the sun is still in the sky. And she was furious at the change. That was how I found her, Severus, during one of my routine trips to the Asian countries. And she agreed to help me, because of her anger. It took a long while for her to change from joining us because of bitterness to actually wanting to help our cause." His eyes were deep blue as he smiled slightly, "She is willing to do everything to help us now, Severus. And I trust her as much as I trust you."

Snape was stopped for a moment, as he swallowed the words he was going to say, and instead dropped the subject, and finding another. "What about that girl, the new Slytherin… Miss Nagini Whetlyn?" he paused, his eyes widening. "Nagini…"

Dumbledore nodded, "You know she is a lamia. She is also the daughter of the Basalisk that was hidden in the Chamber of Secrets, and the right-hand of Voldemort."

"You knew this and yet you accepted her into this school? You let her be near the same boy you've been trying to protect all these years?" Snape waved an impatient hand towards the exit to Dumbledore's office, "I have her right now working on the Veritassium with Harry Potter, all by themselves in the dungeon. What would you say if she were to kill him right then and there?"

"Go see them then. Do not harm the girl. She has as much a part to play in the future as Harry Potter."

Severus growled several muttered words as he exited Dumbledore's office in a flurry of dark robes. He knew well of his past mistakes, of what he'd done before. And he hated the fact that all of the Potters that he ever had to know were all celebrities, all Golden Boys who would never be punished. And he hated the fact that he had to protect this one.

"So you heard." Severus Snape turned at the sound of the new professor's voice. And he was vaguely surprised… there was no dreaminess or vagueness of her tone, she was completely and utterly serious. And very, very blunt.

"Yes." He replied shortly. "And I'm sure you already knew about me."

She shrugged, "Who amongst the Dark Circle did not? Although I was surprised… you were the only one traitor who has not perished under the Dark Lord's power."

"Then what are you?" his words were pointed, sharp and she knew it.

"I was talking of when I was still Lord Voldemort's pet Dark Mage. When I was still human." Her words were short, and tinged with bitterness. She turned away, heading towards her classroom. "Now excuse me. I have a class to get on with, and you have two students in need of your watching. One of which, I must hasten to add is balancing very precariously between darkness and light. If you should even _think_ of harming her in order to protect that boy… you will be doing more harm than good." Her voice changed to something slightly sardonic, "And we both know you won't have the experience to deal with both sides of war against you…" She disappeared through the door, and Severus shook his head. There were more sides to that woman than you would expect. He had been sure she had been a slightly less eccentric Trelawney. Apparently not.

He continued on his not-so-hurried pace to the dungeons where the Dark Lord's lamia and Harry Potter awaited, in the relative unsafety of a potions' classroom where all the ingredients might prove to be hazardous if the girl had slipped something into the potion as it was brewing.

As it was, Harry and Nagini Whetlyn, our resident evil, were currently hard at work concocting the Veritassium… without any extra ingredients. Nagini, though had not been equipped with hands herself for the first few thousand years of her lifetime, had certainly read enough and observed enough to know what to do. Not to mention she had had everything explained to her, for no other reason than the fact that one day it might be useful. How she had had no idea. Apparently this was the time for her studies to come to her has useful, though tedious it had been to listen to the practitioners talk. They had always lorded it over her, simply because of her lack of ability in their 'realm of magic'. It had been a hard instinct not to rip off their limbs with her teeth simply to show them that yes, indeed, she did have an ability that could render them useless. The Dark Lord had been amused by this pastime of hers and had indulged it, he had even been amused when she had torn apart one of the lesser potions masters and had used his mangled body as a warning to anyone else. It was quite clear. Don't mess with the Dark Lord or you'll tangle with the Basilisk's daughter.

However, she had had to quell that instinct because it would not do to destroy all his potions' masters. Once in a while was all right, to make an example and they could be replaced. But too many made more wizards fearful of the job than ever before.

And so, it was with great skill that she helped prepare the ingredients for the potion. _Why though?_ She thought to herself as she went through the mechanical motions. _These are preparations for the War against Voldemort. Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix will be using it _against_ my master… and I will be branded a traitor…_ She shuddered at the thought, shuddered at the memory of Severus Snape's treachery which had affected the entire Dark Order. And she well recalled the rogue Dark Mage, whom she recognized as soon as she had been introduced to the school. But she had said nothing… for she had known full well that the woman could read minds. And skilled though she was at other things, shielding her mind had been something her master had excelled at. Not her. And more than once, when magic had failed to be of use to her, she had seen that Mage tear a man to pieces with her bare hands, though her slim frame never belied the hidden strength.

She looked up from her work only when the Potions Master swept in, in a flurry of black robes. He stopped in front of the worktable, staring down at the ingredients they were still preparing. "Professor, how much of this did you want us to make?" she asked him, gesturing to the multiple ingredients laid out on the sturdy wooden table.

"Enough for twelve vials." He replied briskly, and he stood there for a moment, watching the two of them work, Harry going off to the storeroom to retrieve more of the necessary ingredients, Nagini continuing to work on preparing them.

Slowly, he backed away, and he went to his own desk, clearing the way for the many rolls of parchment, assignment from the second years' that had been handed in that day. It was second nature to keep his hands from shaking, but the temptation to continue looking up at the girl who could _not_ be trusted was almost unbearable. But he was Severus Snape. Nothing more need be said.

Harry brushed another lock of hair out of his eyes as he carefully measured the beaker of faintly glowing green liquid. Nagini found herself with her hands full with the cutting up of something that vaguely reminded her of pig intestines. She grimaced… they probably were. What a waste of a pig…

And oh, what a scene of romance. Complete with unwilling chaperone.

~*~*~*~

Ron Weasley found himself with absolutely nothing to do but play Wizard's Chess with Seamus Finnigan. Which just goes to show just how bored a body can be. Because Seamus Finnigan did _not_ have a good grasp on the game and Ron had beaten him more times than he needed to count. In other words, Ron Weasley was bored. 

Oh sure, Hermione got to make out with the enemy (he shuddered at the thought), and Harry got to have both a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin around him without being called a cheat. And all he got was a night out in the Gryffindor Common Room playing chess with a guy that would never amount to anything even if he were appointed Dictator of the World.

Wait… _had_ there ever been a Dictator of the World? The chess game was compromised as Ron suddenly found himself straining to remember the basics of the Muggle Studies class he had taken a year ago. 

There had been a—Rudolf?—who had come close, he recalled. 

No… Rudolph was a horse.

Or was that a deer?

He shook his head, before glaring back down at the chessboard again. Enough about Muggle history, he had a chess game to win.

He found to his amazement that Seamus has very neatly cornered his king between Ron's knight and Ron's queen.

Well, as much as he'd like to drag the game along, there really was only one thing to say really… "Checkmate." The words sounded dull even to him.

Seamus stared at the bored, denial written all over his facial features, "What?" he cried out, "How's that checkmate? Doesn't that tall one only move in straight lines? And that horse one… doesn't it move diagonally?"

There was nothing much more to say.

"No."

"I still think you're cheating…" muttered the other boy as he glared intently at the chessboard where Ron's pieces were attempting to make faces at the opposing sides' pieces (and failing miserably since they were not made with faces, but the overall effect was understood).

Ron snorted, "I don't need to cheat to win a game of Wizard's Chess." 

__

Especially against you, he added in his head, though he tried hard not to think it. It wasn't Seamus's fault that he was a complete failure at the most simplest of wizarding games. He sighed, that Slytherin girl was rubbing off on him.

"You know what? Forget this… I'm going to go and catch up on my sleep… McGonagall already laid into me for falling asleep in her class this morning… might as well fall asleep before I start taking a nap in Snape's class."

The two boys shared a moment of grimacing at the thought of the Potions teacher before Ron ascended the staircase and made for his bed. He had thoughts that were long overdue for pondering.

Unfortunately, as soon as he had flopped onto his bed, he noticed, far too late it seemed that he had flopped on top of something entirely different from bed as well. A muffled shriek brought him back from Thinking Land (a place he only very rarely visited), and he very nearly shrieked himself.

She (he was very sure she was a she because she wasn't exactly hiding anything to be considered otherwise) stretched, mouth parting slightly and seemed to yawn, before looking up at him with large, large eyes. 

She also seemed to be rather visibly affronted, after having been almost been collapsed on by him.

"Oh my god!" he cried out as he leapt up, and looked around him frantically for help of any sort as he had no idea what to do in this type of situation.

"Um… er…" he mumbled, as she yawned again, rolling over onto her back. "Who are you?"

There was, of course, not an answer from the enigmatic female, as she continued to watch him, unperturbed by his uneasiness, as well as his inability to handle such situations.

"Hey Ron what happened? I heard you scream—oh… Oh! I see…" Seamus trailed off, his eyes transfixed on Ron's bed. "Wow, she's gorgeous…"

But Ron grasped only the insinuated insult. "Scream? I did not _scream_… I'll tell you that was very much a manly bellow."

Both Seamus and the uninvited female rolled their eyes at him.

The Irish boy slowly ran a cautious hand over her face, and she closed her eyes, rubbing her face against his hand with a soft sound of contentment. "Are you going to stay here with us, Miss?" he asked her, looking into her eyes.

Ron interjected, "She most certainly is _not_! She's making herself home on _my_ bed, not yours!"

Again, she and Seamus both shared an identical expression, they glared at the poor redhead.

"I am _not_ sharing my bed with her! She is _not_ staying! And I want to _sleep_!"

Seamus picked her up delicately in his arms, "Fine, I'll take her with _me_. Seems you can appreciate a nice girl even if you fall on one."

"Hey! Don't take her away from me!"

"But you just said…"

"You're not taking something that belongs to _me_!"

Seamus rolled his eyes, letting her fall back onto Ron's bed, and turned away shaking his head. "She's just a cat Ron."

Ron picked her up, holding her close, "Then she's _my_ cat unless someone claims her," he replied, before sitting down defiantly on his bed. The cat's fur was of burnished copper, and it shone in the candlelight, glowing with dark red highlights in it, gloriously thick and incredibly touchable.

Seamus smiled, before turning away, "Knew you were the kind who'd love even a random cat who finds themselves in your bed."

Ron glared at him, "Shut up."

"You know very well you would have very unceremoniously dumped the darling in Hermione's hands if I hadn't tried to take it from you."

"Leave now, Finnigan." The command in his voice was imperial, making the other boy laugh, and bow out.

Ron resumed stroking the cat's long, soft fur. "Where'd you come from?" he asked her, and she meowed softly, rolling herself deeper into his lap, curling herself up into a contented little ball. He smiled… he liked this little furball, even though he was not really a cat person. He'd never really had a fondness for cats after meeting face-to-claw with Hermione's overzealous Crookshanks in the pet shop.

"Well, if there's no one who belongs to you… I guess I can hold that position for a little while," he told the small cat softly, smiling as he stroked her soft fur.

That was when he saw the note, lying rumpled where the cat had been batting at it between her paws before he'd come in. Lifting it into the light he read aloud, "An owl may be useful, but a cat, your cat, will forever be there for you. Her name is Alyssa."

He blinked, then looked down at the shifting colors of the cat's eyes. "You'll always be with me?" he asked her softly, "I'll be glad of that, I think. I guess you're mine… Alyssa."

The cat purred softly, nudging his stomach with her head.

Ron never did notice the small rose tattoo on the bottom of one hind paw.

~*~*~*~

End of Chapter.

Stefani: *winces* Ooh… that took a long time…

Chibi-Relena: I'll say.

Nanashi: Angel will be pissed.

Heero-chan: UPLOAD! UPLOAD!!!!

(even Muses, my Muses, will go insane and OOC when faced with the danger of Angel-chan's wrath)


	13. Chapter 12

****

Against All Odds

Chapter Twelve

Koneko-chan Says!

Stefani: *reads over previous chapter* *sighs in relief* I can't believe I almost copied my entire future story summary into the last chapter's author notes! That would have made it impossible for me to write. I'm glad I didn't. Besides, it would have lost a lot of the little suspense I manage to spin into my work. What am I without that little bit of suspense? My incredible wit? Incredibly hot male characters? *pauses* Actually, I wouldn't mind receiving them all on my doorstep wrapped in bright crimson ribbon.

Heero-chan: *walks past*

Stefani: Where are you going?

Heero-chan: Out. *walks out random door that appears on stage*

Stefani: *blink blink* Um…?

Chibi-Relena: *walks past*

Stefani: And where are _you_ going?

Chibi-Relena: To get Heero-chan. And cookies.

Stefani: Why?

Chibi-Relena: I.M.F.F.

Stefani: Mmph?

Chibi-Relena: I.M.F.F. International Muses Freedom Federation. It's our day off.

Stefani: *eyes widen* You have a day off?!

Chibi-Relena: *walks out random door that appears on stage*

Nanashi: *walks past*

Stefani: *dives for him*

Nanashi: *attempts to get away*

Stefani: *hog-ties Nanashi to a convenient metal pole near her desk (don't ask, don't even _think_)* Sit. Stay.

Nanashi: … Why do I put up with this?

Stefani: *hugs Nanashi* Because otherwise Angel would kill me. *sweetly* And then you would then be directly bequeathed to her.

Nanashi: (O_O)

Chibi-Relena, Heero-chan: *dashes out of random door* *eyes wide with sudden fear* Day off over!

Stefani: *smiles completely satisfied*

~*~*~*~

Professor Sa Lai was not having a good time of class. The students, though they tried their utmost to be friendly, were still unable to cope very well with having a vampiress as their professor. She was only glad that her eyes had bled back into their regular silver. It had taken a long time for the blood red of her pupils to disappear, most likely because it had been a long time since she had fed off a human, and the sensation approached utter ecstasy, both for her and her victim. Sadly, her 'victim' had happened to be a coworker, and she was still outraged and ashamed of herself with her lack of willpower. It might have been worse. She might have attacked a student.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the class early, and managed to meander her way out of her classroom and through the halls. She sighed, brushing aside a lock of her long dark hair. Their discussion that class had led to Voldemort's Dark Mages, and she might have been a fount of information, had there been the uncertainty that there were spies among the students. As unlikely as it might have seemed, there was always a chance, and if Voldemort knew that she was here, and teaching, he would do all he could do to stop her.

Steps had to be taken. She couldn't allow them to find her, and yet she had accepted a position in a well-known school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And the students would talk. Their parents would find out, and owls would be filling the sky to demand that their children could not be risked under the tutelage of a vampire.

As if she had always been a monster, and had never a human.

She needed help, and the ways of the Darks Arts was the most familiar of all the magicks that she knew. Whether or not she could use them to her advantage was another thought however. One could not use them for personal gain unless they were willing to sacrifice much to get what they wanted. And as loathe as she was to admit it, she needed another's help. Not Dumbledore, surely. He would be horrified by the fact that she needed to return to the Dark Arts in order to achieve her anonymity. There was only one other that was as knowledgeable as she in the Dark Arts and the ways of Voldemort's clan.

But Snape was, in the terms of these British, a pain in the arse. He did not trust her, and she most assuredly could not trust him. He had shown his true colors once before and betrayed the Dark Order… he just might do the same for the Dumbledore's Order. She smiled wryly. Then again, she was the same, was she not? Sighing, she opened the door to her office and slipped in.

"Ah, my Angel we meet again." she stopped in mid-step, her hands came up and a spell readied itself on her lips as a reflex. She'd never really had much use for wands anyway.

Lucius Malfoy sat in her chair. No, that wasn't quite right. _Lounging_, in her chair was what he was doing. And still managed that superior cavalier look. Impressive.

"It's been a long time… I'm amazed you haven't forgotten about me."

Smiling ruefully, he stood up. "One can never forget a Mistress like yourself."

She frowned at him. "So finally you feel shame for allowing yourself to be taken up with the likes of me?"

"Oh no, my Angel… quite the contrary in fact." He smiled, and it was not a pleasant one. "You see, serving you was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Not only did it bring me closer to the Dark Lord, but…" here he smiled at her, "You were a very good teacher and a great mentor to me in the Dark Order."

She raised an eyebrow, and did not put down her hands, though she moved forward, closer into the office and shutting the door behind her. "I know you too well to believe that you would take it into your head to suddenly come and visit me at this school. What do you want?"

His mannerism became completely and utterly serious. "I want to know if you are _mad_ to try and go up against the Dark Lord… especially now."

"I never knew you would care about one such as I, Lucius." Her voice became constricted and thick with rage, "Nor would I imagine that you above all people would be groveling at Voldemort's feet like some _dog_ waiting to be kicked!"

"How dare you—"

"How dare _I_?" she growled, as she pulled a corner of her lips to flash one long fang. "I received nothing more by working in his services than my death. Simply because I was too powerful, because he viewed me as a threat." She shook her head, "I taught you how to survive in his Order, Lucius Malfoy, I did not teach you that it isn't possible to gain and hold power with a master like Voldemort."

"He will win, my Angel… we're already gathering to kill Harry Potter now. Dumbledore will fall."

"He is afraid of a mere _boy_. A boy that he could not kill when he was but a baby has defeated him and defied him, several times over now. The boy is strong, and the forces that surround him and protect him are strong as well. Voldemort is rallying his forces _now_ because he needs to defeat the boy before he comes out a fully-trained wizard. He has already planted his spy inside the school. Did he really believe I did not _know_?" she sneered.

Lucius shook his head, "He does not know you are yet here. You have disappeared quite well from his thoughts… I expected nothing less from the best of the Dark Mages."

"What are you doing here Lucius? You have not answered my question."

"I need to know which side will win. You have always been the one who _knew_ even before the Dark Lord did. You did not choose to be on Harry Potter's side simply because you wanted revenge on Him, did you?"

She eyed him, blinking owlishly. "You are not as sure of yourself as you make your son believe."

He jerked back into the chair, "How—?"

"As you said, I _am_ the best of the Dark Mages, though my strength may be diminished during the day. And I have known you since you were seventeen… I _know_ of all the enchantments you cast on your only son in order to keep him bound to you, to contact him, and I _know_ that you wished to present him to Voldemort… until you found out I had switched sides."

She smiled, unpleasantly. "Ah, so you _are_ still the same. Always the one to look towards the winning side, lusting for power others have and you do not. Tell me, are you willing to sacrifice even your son to gain Ultimate Power?"

To his credit, he answered truthfully. "Yes."

"How ever did I guess? Lucius Malfoy, schoolboy turned Slytherin male whore, turned Death Eater, turned uncaring, ambitious, self-serving father."

His eyes grew angry, and his voice frigid. "You never complained."

A cruel smile found its way onto her face, "Why would I have wanted to? After all, you were my greatest achievement. I modeled you after myself. Glad to know that my training has taken great effect."

"But you don't like the result, do you?"

"Not at all. That was what I was, who I am now is a completely different story. But I am getting off track. You asked me why I believe Voldemort will fall. It is because there is one crucial point that could lead to his eventual defeat, here in this school, employed by Voldemort himself. And I have employed the most powerful of charms to ensure that she tilts in my favor."

"So you don't care about that crackpot Dumbledore or that traitor Snape?"

"Traitor? What does that make me, please?"

"You know what I mean."

"Indeed. And yes, I _have_ tried to ensure that the two of them live through this, as well as that foolish boy Harry Potter who gets himself into innumerable scrapes. Now Lucius, I do believe it's time for you to leave."

"Funny, you were never interested in having me leave_ early_."

"Funny perhaps, but the time you speak of was before you ever laid designs on your wife. Now go."

Lucius looked at her for a long moment. "Do you really believe that _I_ might be on your side, my Angel?"

"Not for a moment." She replied coolly, "But I am willing to accept any true help you're willing to give. Which, in the long run I might add, might tilt everything in your favor should Voldemort fall." She let the coldness, the bitterness inside her heart steal into her eyes, making them appear more dark and stormy than the occasional typhoon that threatened the magical lake outside the school. "And believe me, I will _make_ him fall."

The blond man nodded slowly, before sweeping out the door, his cloak swishing after him. She then proceeded to slump down into her chair, and, because she was naturally suspicious, did a magical sweeping of the room with her wand, checking for anything out of the ordinary that Lucius Malfoy might have set in motion. She could find none.

She did, however, catch the very faint scent of someone other than Lucius Malfoy who had been just outside her door. She was instantly flattened out against it, her vampire-enhanced senses straining to catch… something, _anything_, of who had been listening outside the door.

"Madam, if you would consent to open this door, I just might be able to talk to you!" She stiffened, recognizing the voice. Snape. Damn the man, why was he always there at the most inopportune of times? How much had he heard? Her words could be taken either way, and the man did not like her at all, did not trust her. He could tell of his suspicions of her to the Headmaster, who had enough clout left in the wizarding world to send her to Azkaban for life.

She ripped open the door with more force than was necessary, revealing the tall, stark figure of a very suspicious-looking Professor Snape. "What do you want?" she hissed, virtually unable to keep the rage out of her voice, and the crackling of power around her body. It rippled in a dark blue mist around her, giving her an aura of great power. He crossed his arms, and leaned back against the closed door to her office, clearly not impressed with the light show. "Lucius Malfoy was just seen exiting your office. I found grounds to inquire on why he would come to you."

She narrowed her eyes, "Were you listening from behind the door?"

Professor Snape gathered himself up, visibly affronted of having been accused of eavesdropping. Then he looked slightly abashed, "I might have if you were to slap me with the definition, yes." Then his entire demeanor was completely serious again. "But you still have not answered my questions."

"You never asked me one. You only implied." She replied, stonily, "And I refuse to be accused of treason by one such as you. For that is why you have come, is it not?"

"No actually, my intentions concerning my appearance outside you office were completely noble. I wished to inform you that the potion to be concocted for you that I have been working on seems to be coming along just fine. I wanted to thank you for your idea concerning adding your own blood to the potion, because that just might set us both in the record books for this, if it turns out the way it is supposed. So you see, I was not planning on overhearing a conversation between a fellow professor and a past schoolmate who has been proven (by myself I might add) to be a Death Eater talking about the Dark Lord, you might say I was interested to say the least."

"Ah, so I see your spying days are not yet over."

"They would not accept me back into the Order, and you knew that. They no longer trusted me."

"They are not a trusting band, I'll give you that. I did not expect you to live through that encounter however, when you attempted to rejoin them."

"Honestly, neither did I." It was at this point that Severus caught on to Angel's game. She was very slowly, leading him off the path of his questions, drawing him off the concrete road of fact, and into the uncertain paths of the abstract. That is, if you take abstract to be everything but.

She apparently noticed that he'd figured it out too, because she smiled, flashing just a few too many teeth for Severus to feel completely comfortable, and said, "He wanted to know why I joined up with Dumbledore. He's followed me and trusted in my instincts for too long, he was, for one of the first times I've ever known him, unsure of himself." She shook her head, "He was always one to look for power… I just led him down the darker path to it."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Not so closely so that I can catch every word you two were saying… it is not exactly dignified for the Potions Master to have his ear pressed to the DADA teacher's door when students pass by."

"That _would_ have been a sight now, wouldn't it?" she murmured thoughtfully eyeing him. He broke eye contact first. "Have you been dabbling the Dark Magicks?" he asked, as if it was completely off-topic, but completely concerning the topic at hand.

She glared at him, "I am a Dark Mage," she informed him haughtily, "Mages do not _dabble_!" she added this last with an indignant frown.

"You have not answered me."

"I have taken steps to assure that my existence here in this school goes completely unnoticed for the time being, and I have created security wards and protection spells, and several hexes to ensure the safety of myself as well as everyone else trustworthy in this school. If that is your idea of _dabbling_, then yes."

"You could be thrown in Azkaban for what you have just admitted to me."

She smiled grimly, "No I couldn't… because if I had wanted it, you would have had no recollection whatsoever of this conversation, or of the previous one I had with Mr. Malfoy. I have my ways, Professor Snape, and I have my spells. I allowed you to learn some of my secrets that I am using in order to keep us all safe."

"You're using Dark Magic to keep the school _safe_?" he asked, clearly disbelieving.

"There are plenty of spells that you don't know about, my dear Snape. And plenty more that I do know, that do _not_ involve the sacrificial entrails of a virgin." She wrinkled her nose, "Goodness, that _would_ be a waste, wouldn't it? And quite messy, I'm sure."

"Fine. I will inform the Headmaster of your wards, but rest assured that I will be watching you very closely. I do not trust you to be a… safe… person."

"I'm sure I have already assured you that I am _not_ a safe person, and I never have been. Good day, Severus." She shut the door firmly in his face.

The nerve of that man!

~*~*~*~

When finally they managed to get Pansy to fall asleep, Hermione and Draco were once again seated in two of the couches in their shared common room, with two cups of steaming coffee a House Elf had brought to them. "Well?" asked Hermione finally, when they had sipped at their mugs for several long minutes. "What should we do?"

Draco shook his head slowly, allowing several of the longer pieces of hair on his forehead fall down into his face. "I really don't know… Pansy hasn't ever been one of my best of friends, but I've known her all my life. And I don't want to see her rotting with all that filth in Azkaban. But I don't know what else to do."

Tapping her fingers lightly on the warmed ceramic, she stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Well we can't hide a fugitive from the Ministry of Magic in our dormitories… even on your worst days you wouldn't think of that."

"No I wouldn't… but where could she go?"

"She said she would tell the professors herself later. Should we hold her to her word?"

"I guess we'll have to…" but he didn't sound happy about that idea, as if watching one of his good friends being led to the gallows. Which was a strange thing because Pansy had _never_ been one of his good friends. He didn't think he even _had_ any good friends. They were for those who couldn't not stand alone. He had always considered himself better than that.

Putting down her mug, she leaned against the arm of the couch, sighing. "I suppose it would be all right to keep her here… _for a little while_."

He nodded, "That's all I can really ask for." He smiled wryly, "I don't think the Headmaster would think too well of me if I tried to bribe him, either."

"Nope."

There was another uncomfortable silence, in which both of them inspected every minute detail of the carpet. Again, it was Hermione that broke the stillness. "Um… I have homework… so…"

"Right… I'm… heading for the Slytherin common room… to inquire."

"You do that." She headed off towards her room, in which she quietly opened the door, so as not to disturb Pansy.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Nagini burst into the common room through the portrait hole, her nostrils flared. Hermione turned around, confused. "Where is she?!" hissed the enraged girl, eyes glittering menacingly.

Hermione heard Pansy mewl in panic, and turned back quickly to see Pansy dive to the opposite side of the bed crouching behind the bed, shivering, eyes wide. Nagini was in the doorway in a minute. "How _dare_ you!" she hissed. "I _hate_ being made a mockery of! And that is _exactly_ what you did, you wretched girl!"

"I—I…" stuttered Pansy, as she cowered behind Hermione's bed, "I—I couldn't—"

"I risked this entire school finding out my identity!" stormed Nagini, seeming not even to listen to Pansy's stuttering, "I risked every secret I hold in my to help you! And _you make a fool out of me!_" she lunged towards her, and both Draco and Hermione, with a speed they had never known, leapt on the girl, tackling her to the ground. 

"NO! Calm down… it wasn't that bad!" cried Hermione at Nagini's elbow, holding her securely at the waist, though it was Draco who actually pinned her to the ground.

"_NAGINI_!" roared Draco, "We've got to get her to explain first! _CALM DOWN_!"

Nagini stopped moving, and took a few deep breaths. When she spoke again, her voice was hard, cold. "Get off me."

When Hermione tried to protest, she turned burning _yellow_ eyes on the girl. She was half-transformed already. "I'm not going to hurt the rotten brat, so you will _bloody well get off me_ or I'll _make you_."

Slowly, Hermione's hold on her loosened, and Pansy let out a whimper, cowering closer and closer to the opposite wall. Following her example, Draco let go, and Nagini got up clumsily to her feet. "You girl," she said in that same cruel voice where each word seemed to be shards of ice that was nothing like the old-fashioned, half-dreamy voice she usually used. "You are going to live… thanks to these two. But you know quite well that I am not burdened so with their morals. You cross me, _ever_, and I will be sure to make you pay."

Pansy, still shaking went down on her knees, her forehead touching the ground, in the international symbol of subservience, "I'm—I'm sorry… Th—Thank you…"

With of flurry of flying robes, Nagini stalked out of Hermione's room. From where they were, Nagini's door slamming shut was quite pronounced. Hermione immediately rushed to Pansy's side, helping her to stand—which turned out to be rather impossible—and then settled with having her sit back on the bed. Pansy was sobbing at this point, and Hermione gingerly handed her a handkerchief she swiped off her dresser. She looked up pleadingly at Draco, mouthing, _follow her_.

Draco hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and strode quickly after the raging lamia. Nagini was fuming. She had been treated like a fool, by one of the Dark Lord's gullible minions at that! It was an outrage, and she had a great sense of pride when connected to the Master.

Would she contact the Master to inform him of what she had done? Should she? The Master did not like to be bothered by useless trifles. Surely this Pansy girl would be of no danger to him? No, surely not.

She whirled when she heard Draco's steps behind her. "What?!" she hissed defensively, her arms crossed.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You go on a raving rampage into Daisy's room, terrorize the girl who has deluded herself into thinking that she's my girlfriend, and still you ask me?"

Nagini turned away from him, "You would not understand."

Draco raised both his eyebrows, "Really? Well, let me tell you something. All my life at this school, hell, all my life before this year, I was considered a coward. I didn't admit it to myself, but hell, I was one, and acted like an idiot. Now Voldemort's coming—" he noticed her wince at the name, "—and I have to make a choice. My father wants me by his side. Not to spy, not to do anything but lay low. Well I'm tired of it, and I don't care about being on the winning side anymore. I'm with the school."

Nagini's eyes had gotten progressively wider and wider as she listened to him. "Who would have thought," she mused coolly, "that the son of Lucius Malfoy would actually choose the path of disgrace? What is Dumbledore if not a feeble old man incapable of telling who is and who is not a spy sent to his school? Who is the Dark Lord, the Master, if not the greatest sorcerer in the world, of whom all shudder at his name? Draco Malfoy, Betrayer of the Pure Blood."

"Nagini Whetlyn, Voldemort's little pet snake."

She whirled, eyes wide, "How did you—!" her eyes became angry. "Who told you of this?!" Her power echoed her turbulent emotions, and a ball of green fire exploded into being in her fist.

Draco shrugged, but she had already noticed his wand in his hand. "I'm Head Boy, I figured it out."

Nagini glared at him, killing the ball of flame in her hand, "You think you can betray my secret?" she asked coldly, "You think you can just go up to Dumbledore and tell him? _He. Already. Knows._" She laughed a harsh, grating sound in the back of her throat, "He knew I was here to kill Harry Potter, and he didn't do a thing to stop me. He believed I could be _good_," she drew the word out, making a mockery of it, "that I could join his cause. I was powerful and he knew it. I would be of help to him." she laughed again, "The fool… he thought I would choose to believe in Harry Potter rather than the Master. The Master _gave_ me my power, why would I trade it all for a worthless little boy?"

"Worthless?" Harry's voice floated in from the doorway, startling both Draco and Nagini. Draco, confused, continued to stare wildly around him, while Nagini turned to her other senses to help her. Her nostrils flared, and his scent, a blurred, nearly untraceable scent, but distinctly _his_, drew her to the door. He was standing right behind Draco, cloaked in invisibility. "Let me see you, Harry Potter, I know you are there."

The air behind Draco shimmered in itself for a moment, before Harry appeared, eyes stony as he took off the cloak. "And here I was, sneaking through to talk to Hermione, and I find all hell has broken loose," his conversational tone contrasting his hardened eyes.

"I think you walked in at the wrong time, Potter."

Harry ignored him, walking into Nagini's room instead. "There's a lot that you don't know yet, Nagini." He told her seriously, "After all, how close to me do you think you've gotten? How close do you think Dumbledore has gotten to releasing your identity to the rest of the world? They all know now after all, and everyone's just jumping for a chance to catch someone having to do with Voldemort."

She winced reflexively, and he smiled humorlessly at her, "What, not even _you_ dare to say his name?"

Nagini glared at him, eyes glowing with hidden green fire, "He is the Master. That is all I need to know him as."

Harry laughed again, still the same. Cold, hard. "The Master? The master who uses your shell as a form of entertainment? Or did you not realize that I knew, that I was _there_ all those times he took you over to kill or to slaughter? Is that the kind of Master one worships?"

There wasn't really anything to say to that. But… "What do you mean you were there?" she asked weakly. All those things that she'd done… that he'd made her do… Harry had known it all along?

He glared at her, "I've known for years. All those dreams, always being tied to Voldemort, always knowing what he was doing… it's not something you look forward to when you go to sleep."

"When I came here… you knew it was me?"

"No. I thought you were just this girl crazy enough to transfer to Hogwarts with Voldemort still at large out there. But then everything fit together… and your name…" he shook his head, "I've her Voldemort say it so many times in my head, it's not something I can ever forget."

Draco, who had been forgotten up until this point suddenly spoke up, "Snape's coming. Get your ass under that cloak Potter or there'll be hell to pay if he finds you here."

This distracted Harry, who stared at him in surprise, "How did you—"

"Small warding spell on the portrait hole. Get moving. I don't need to explain Nagini _crying_" (for indeed tears were coming from her eyes, without her knowledge why) "and why you here."

Nagini watched him shoot her one last warning glare, and then he disappeared beneath his cloak.

"What's going on here?" demanded Professor Snape, taking in the scene in one quick glance. Nagini turned away from him so he couldn't see the sudden tears forming in her eyes, and to hide her confusion. "An argument about the Yule Ball… we're getting behind in planning it, and… well…" she shrugged, not looking at him.

"Nagini and I have… opposite views on the subject."

"I see." Snape said curtly, "Where is Miss Granger?"

Draco noticeably paled some. "She's… er… she's…"

"Right here, sir." Hermione, visibly rumpled had come up behind the professor, "Was there something you needed?"

"Yes. All three of you are to know that the Yule Ball has been cancelled."

Even Nagini had to turn around, tears gone from her eyes as the three of them stared at the tall professor. "_Cancelled_?" repeated Hermione, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Cancelled. There is to be no Yule Ball, and the Triwizard Tournament has been called off. The Ministry has once again decided to take this school's affairs into its own hands." He eyed Draco and Nagini keenly, "I suppose this should end your… opposing views on the subject."

"Oh no sir… not by a long shot," Draco replied, never taking his eyes off Snape, but Nagini knew beyond any doubt at whom the words were meant for.

Snape realized this as well, and he turned his cold stare at the tall girl. "Well then… as it appears neither of you have any reason to speak straight with me, I will instead have a talk with Miss Granger." The girl he was referring to blinked, straightening up reflexively from her place against the wall. "Yes, sir?"

"Who is it that you're hiding in your room?"

For once, the intrepid Gryffindor was speechless. Then, "Why would you think such a thing, professor?"

He looked at her raising his eyebrows, "Why, the passive scanning wards placed in every single room and dormitory… don't tell me that not even _you_ knew of those?" he waved it aside, "But that is besides the point. The point is there has been someone else in these chambers—two even if I'm not mistaken, and I want to know who they are."

She eyed Draco uneasily, obviously unable to figure out what to do. How Gryffindor of her… she had all her emotions written on her face for all to read. "Well, you see, sir…" she side-stepped into the room in between Draco and Nagini, always facing the professor as she did so, and while Nagini noticed the glint of gold in her hands first, Draco recognized it. She was just waiting for the perfect moment when he looked away.

Nagini looked at the two of them confused, before Hermione eyed her meaningfully unnoticed by Snape because her face was partially covered by her long curly hair. "_Distract him_," she mouthed, flicking her head back to face Snape. 

Nagini blinked at the professor before she decided, _just do it._ If she was going to distract him, she would very well be theatric about it. It was not like she could do any worse than she had under the Confusion spell Pansy had thrown at her. She screamed, long, loud, and wildly, twin balls of flame exploded in both her hands, causing Snape to reflexively jump back from the girl. "They're coming for me!" she wailed, beginning to twitch and spasm violently, falling to the ground and tearing obscenely at her breast. "Get them off me!" she screamed, "Get them off, get them off!" 

And because her eyes were still ablaze with green fire deep in the pupils, her words had an effect on the seasoned professor who had most likely already heard this type of distraction before. But his innate fear of any of You-Know-Who's creatures almost completely blinded him as to what she was really doing.

Hermione put the distraction to good use, dragging Draco along with the trip. _After all_, she thought wryly, _it's not as if _I_ know much about hiding a fugitive out to kill me in a safe place. I'm sure Slytherins do it all the time…_

Flipping the Time-Turner back just after Draco had left to follow Nagini, they ran back to the room. The startled Hermione and Pansy inside stared at them for a minute before realization dawned on the girl's face. "What's happening?"

"We've got to get Pansy out," replied Draco swiftly as he held out a hand to Pansy. "Snape's going to appear any minute looking for her."

The girl stared up at them in minute horror, before Hermione grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up onto Draco's back. "You're carrying her," she told him firmly, "let's move." She turned back to the other Hermione still staring dumbfounded at them. "Now as soon as you hear Snape come in, go out there and give 'em all hell." She grinned at her double, before she and Draco rushed out of the room.

"Where the hell can we go?" she gasped as they both leaped out of the portrait and ran, "I think—Hogsmeade."

"_What?!_" she explained, nearly stopping in her tracks. "We do _not_ have time to get her to Hogsmeade!"

"You don't… but _she _does."

Hermione turned to Pansy, "Can you make it there by yourself? You can go and hide in the Shrieking Shack—"

"Daisy are you crazy?! That place is haunted!"

"No it's not!" she shot back, "I have proof that it's not. Pansy, _can you go there_?"

The girl shuddered violently, but nodded. Hermione smiled grimly, "Good. I'll come by later to bring you stuff you'll need. And so will he," she jerked her thumb at Draco, "since he has access to the Slytherin common room." She took out her wand and tapped the old stone figure and muttered a word under her breath, before gesturing Pansy forward. "Follow the path from here and you'll soon come to the basement of Honeydukes. Go from there to the Shrieking Shack and stay there until either of us comes."

Draco tapped Hermione's shoulder, "We've got to go… time's almost up. I give Nagini only a minute more max than when we left to keep up the distraction."

"I know," she turned back to Pansy, before realizing she had already disappeared down the corridor. It was dimly lit, so there really was no need for a wand. _She'll be fine,_ Hermione rationalized, as she and Draco sprinted back to their common room.

They entered just in time to hear Nagini's first shriek… plenty of time. They rushed back to their original positions behind Snape, just in time for him to see them when he glanced backwards, before they both raced towards their friend. "What's wrong?" demanded Hermione, grasping onto the girl's upper arms, shaking her. 

"Roosters!" she screamed at them, which, under normal circumstances would have seemed rather amusing, if not completely absurd. However, considering her heritage, it made plenty of sense that she too would be frightened of the bird whose cry was fatal to the Great Serpent, as untrue as it proved to be in real life. "They're all around me, get them off, get them OFF!!!!" she shrieked.

When she opened her eyes, Hermione realized that her pupil had become a vertical slit, very much like a cat's or a snake's. She hesitated… how much was Nagini really faking?

"She was hit by a Confusion spell, sir," she told Snape. "Aren't one of the side effects hysteria?"

"Yes, I believe you are quite right." Snape's voice was cold. "Keep her here until she's talking sense again. And Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor for harboring another student in your bedroom. Very suspicious-looking in a Head Girl." He had been looking through the open door of her room, and Hermione winced at the state of her usually neat bedroom when he raised his eyebrow at the mess. He then flourished his wand at the portrait hole, most likely testing those wards he had mentioned earlier, before he stalked out through the portrait. Nagini immediately stopped wailing. "That was by far, one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done."

"I don't know… that scene on the Knight Bus with Wormtail just might have topped it." Harry appeared again from beneath his Invisibility Cloak with a look of distaste on his face. "I _do_ wish I wasn't inside your head sometimes."

Nagini grimaced, "Sniveling little _rat_," she muttered vehemently.

"I agree with you, but it didn't settle a _thing_ over what we need to discuss."

She turned away from him, "There is nothing to discuss."

"Actually, Nagini, there is." Draco said, sitting down on one of the chairs. Although, 'sitting' was a milder term for 'lounging', which, certainly, was how he regularly sat. Hermione, undaunted, found a space right on the floor, seating herself comfortably cross-legged.

"Yeah Nagini. Pet Dark creature of Voldemort (here all but Harry winced visibly at the name) 's you may be, but there's still hope for you if Dumbledore let you into the school."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Do you truly believe in Dumbledore that much?" She asked, watching the truth shine in the raven-haired boy's eyes, seeing the faith she usually saw reserved for money in the eyes of the Death Eaters she and the Master kept company with more often than not.

"I don't think you need Potter to answer that," replied Draco sardonically. "We all heard the story about how Potter _believed_ in Dumbledore… enough so that a songbird swooped in to save his life and dropped a sword on his head."

"Always knew you were jealous, Malfoy." 

Apparently the old animosity would never be completely buried, Hermione reflected. But then again, she'd never really expected it to. Ron, she could understand might never associate much with Draco without insulting him—that was just the way their relationship went. Same went with Harry's. But what about hers? What was it between her and Draco? Might one even call it *gulp* _friendship?_

She looked over at Draco quickly, who was still exchanging cold looks with everyone else in the room. Eck. He was too good-looking to be friends with. Wasn't that one of the cardinal rules of dating? Never date a guy prettier than you? And what was Draco Malfoy if not pretty?

All right, he was intelligent.

And witty when opportunity knocked.

And… oh hell.

"Hermione?" asked Harry anxiously when he realized she had not responded to Draco's saying her name for the third time in a row.

"Huh?"

"We were asking…" Draco told her significantly annunciating each word as if talking to a particularly dull child, "What you think we should do about Nagini's… uniqueness?"

"Should we ship _her_ off to Hogsmeade too?" she asked sardonically, having been rudely torn from her thoughts, although at a most opportune moment.

"Hmm… no, I don't think she and Pansy could live with each other that long."

"This is getting nowhere!" snapped Nagini. "I don't have time for this. I have better things to be doing."

"Like what? Plotting to seduce Harry?"

She stopped short, and Hermione looked surprised at Nagini's reaction to her half-thought out guess, "Wow, you really _were_ here to seduce Harry?"

"I was here to _kill_ Harry. I should have thought that would have been obvious."

"You knew who I was?"

"Who doesn't?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know… all everybody knows me for has always been this—" he pointed at his scar, "—otherwise, I can pass as anyone else." Draco snorted, which earned him a dirty look from Hermione. "Do be quiet, Draco."

"Whatever you say, Daisy."

Harry grimaced, holding out a hand as if shielding himself from them. "Please, I can barely handle the fact that you two are being civil to each other… _don't_ go around calling each other pet names."

"Why, Potter? Jealous?"

"You wish," he replied offhandedly, but with a serious look in his bright green eyes. "Don't mess with me Malfoy. Otherwise I might think you are doing this on purpose to keep this discussion about what's going to happen to Whetlyn from finishing."

"Boys, boys, _boys_!" exclaimed Hermione, crossing her arms, "You," she said to Harry pointing imperiously towards the floor. "Sit. You," she added, pointing to Draco, "Shut up."

The two boys recognized the voice of authority. They sat, they were silent. Nagini marveled in silence.

"Now, I think the most important thing to discuss first is whether or not we can _trust_ Nagini." She looked apologetic at the girl she had only a little while before wished to be friends with, and still did as a matter of fact. "We _do_ share the same common room… and you _have_ been the… right hand serpent of You-Know-Who…"

"I understand," Nagini replied coolly wondering to herself why she didn't simply kill both Draco and Hermione now and take Harry Potter away to her master immediately. When someone, _anyone_, had made this horrid twinge inside her, she had immediately killed. Why wasn't she doing the same now? The answer became obvious all of a sudden. She was _changing._ Shuddering at what would happen to her if the Master ever found out about this newly acquired weakness, she matched Hermione's calm gaze. "So, you know just how much power I hold in my fist," she allowed a ball of flame to burst into life in her hand for a moment to prove her point, "What do you propose to do to protect yourself from me?" The words were sarcastic, as if she believed such a thing was impossible.

"We were hoping to devise something that doesn't involve going to Professor Dumbledore," muttered Harry. "We don't… really want you to leave."

"Since when did you ever care?" she snapped at him, wanting him to be silent. "I never really tried to seduce you… you weren't anything like I expected you to be. If I acted like a total whore, I would've been just like Pansy and I could see at a glance you wouldn't fall for that act."

"No… I don't think Pansy's ever attracted much attention of that sort, even if she's the Whore of Slytherin."

Hermione looked scandalized, and Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "You mean you don't _know_ about the side businesses some of our girls run? My, my, we _are_ innocent…"

"Draco-baby," she told him, using the dreaded nickname Pansy had given him, "Just because I don't like _saying_ it out loud, doesn't mean I don't know anything about it. I lived in the same dormitory with Parvati Patil for the past six years. Once you're helping her brush up on contraceptive charms, you know everything." She turned away from him shaking her head. "Slytherins."

Harry still looked confused, "You were trying to seduce me?" he asked, blinking.

Draco rolled his eyes. "God, if a troupe of half-naked Veela stole into your room in the middle of the night wanting to shag you, would you still ask that?"

Harry glared at him.

Nagini shook her head, "That approach wouldn't work with the Golden Boy," she replied, waving a hand, airily, "Especially after I learned that he was going out with Cho Chang. It was tricky, and I had a feeling you were too noble for me to seduce while I was still the 'other woman'. Nothing came of it…" she said, sitting back against her bed. Then she admitted something to them that she'd never thought she would ever say. "The Lord Voldemort… he is coming here."

They stared at her. "_What?!_" Draco yelled, voicing all of their thoughts at once.

"He will know that I have failed to do what I was supposed to have done on time. He will come to deal with Harry Potter himself." She looked away. "He will kill me." she looked up at Harry. "You say yourself you have seen what I have seen," she told him, "Do you not know how much power the Master holds over me? Do you think I can disobey him?"

He was silent for a moment. Then… "Yes."

She stared at him. "How many times a fool must you be not to understand?" she yelled at him, green eyes snapping, but she did not cry. She didn't allow herself to cry. "Do you expect me to be changed by your influences? Do you expect me to turn my back on the Master who I have served faithfully for as long as he has lived? Do you expect me to join you?"

He shook his head, "I don't think I can answer that," he told her simply. "Because you would have to know the answer first. And I don't think you do." He stood up. "I'm going back to bed, Hermione," he said, addressing his friend. "You three can sort things out or leave it till morning. But I think," he added looking back at Nagini with his bright green eyes, "That Whetlyn here won't be able to do anything because Hermione is going to set Crookshanks here to watch her. Crookshanks is friendly with her, I've seen the two of them together before, but he's always going to be your cat Hermione. Put him here to watch her." he walked out.

Nagini raised an eyebrow. "You can," she told Hermione. "I'm not going anywhere. There is nowhere I can hide from the Master when he comes… and I have to stay or else not even _I_ will have a chance to get to Harry Potter."

Hermione looked grim, but she nodded, getting up. "I don't like the idea." She said slowly, "And I don't know if I can trust you not to hurt Crookshanks. But I'm going to listen to Harry on this one. He didn't survive seventeen years of dealing with Voldemort because he was an idiot." She gestured at Draco, "You too, Draco."

"Are you sure—"

"Draco."

"Right." He got up from the chair and walked out the doorway. Hermione nodded cordially to Nagini and didn't look down when Crookshanks sauntered in. "Good night, Nagini." She closed the door firmly, and, just because she needed to be extra sure, she cast a slight warding spell over the door. No one could get in or out of that room without her knowing it.

Draco was waiting for her in their common room. "Well…?" he asked finally, breaking the silence, "Now what?"

She sighed, "Sleep with your under your pillow tonight, Draco. And… I would stay dressed if I were you." She disappeared into her own room.

He groaned, slumping bonelessly into a chair. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he wondered to himself. "How the heck did I ever say I was on _Dumbledore's_ side?" he sounded disgusted with himself. _How the heck could I have faced Hermione if I didn't?_

He groaned again. Oh no… it had gotten to _this_ point. He was actually starting to care what she thought about what he was going to do. He was Draco Malfoy. He was not supposed to fall in love.

"What're the chances I have of actually working things out with Granger?" he muttered to himself.

"About the same odds as getting a Royal Flush."

He jumped up, before he realized it was only one of the paintings on the wall. The wizard in there, a jovial card-wielding joker, grinned back at him. "Come on boy, it can happen. But it's not probable… not with what's going to happen around here."

He looked back at Nagini's door, and faintly heard Crookshanks meow. "Well you're right about one thing," he said to the painting, "Something _is_ going to happen around here." _And I'm not too sure if I'm going to live to see it through… not if my dad's thinking of presenting me to _Him_ now that he wants to come and get Harry himself…_ He shuddered, pulling up the sleeve of his robes, and staring at the mark on his arm. It wasn't the Dark Mark, he certainly wasn't a Death Eater just yet. But it was like Nagini's mark, serpentine, and a symbol of just how closely tied to the Dark Lord he was.

"I guess Daisy probably is more than I can hope for…" he murmured to himself. "After all… what're the odds?"

~*~*~*~

End of chapter.

Yes, Draco, what _are_ the odds? So… what do _you_ guys think? Should there be more Draco/Hermione before the ending (which I assume will be coming in about a couple more chapters) or should I bring Pansy back into the fold? Choice is yours people.


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